


this place could be beautiful

by mygalfriday (BrinneyFriday)



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Because I can, F/F, F/M, The Time War, also features teenage shenanigans, and eventual domestic fluff, i also rearranged the order of the doctor's regenerations, river and the doctor are childhood sweethearts on gallifrey, river being hbic, the master is long-suffering and so over it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-08-08 02:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 52,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16420652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrinneyFriday/pseuds/mygalfriday
Summary: The first time he sees her, she’s standing at the mouth of the Untempered Schism.





	1. the academy years: i won't scar your young heart, just take my hand

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter title from I Was Made For Loving You by Jessie Kol. Story title from Good Bones by Maggie Smith. 
> 
> In which our sweet space babies meet and become besties at first sight.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161648709@N02/30631464177/in/dateposted-public/)

   _I do believe in fate and destiny, but I also believe we are only fated to do the things that we’d choose anyway. And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you._

**\- The Chaos of Stars, Kiersten White**

* * *

The first time he sees her, she’s standing at the mouth of the Untempered Schism. Theta has been watching his peers step up to the opening in the vortex for several long, terrible minutes but there’s something different about this girl. Something in the fierce set of her jaw and those unruly blonde curls that drags him from his own anxieties long enough to notice her.

She doesn’t quake like the others – like he is – as she allows the Headmaster to guide her forward. She marches up to the space-time continuum like she’s about to engage in a fist fight and is eager to throw the first punch. Curls bouncing against her small shoulders and nostrils flaring, she leans forward and stares into the vortex as though trying to tame it with the force of her gaze.

So enthralled by her that he forgets his fears for the moment, Theta keeps his eyes fastened on her. It’s the only reason he sees her flinch despite her bravado. The urge to look away – to run – must be screaming under her skin but other than that flicker of fear, she doesn’t react. She stays firmly rooted in place, hands balled into fists at her sides and tears welling in her eyes.

By the time the Headmaster releases her shoulder, Theta is certain he’s never seen anyone so brave or so pretty in his life. The girl finally turns away and though she wears the same dazed expression all the others have before her, there’s a light of determination in her eyes, as though whatever she’d seen had lit a fire within her. The sight of her stirs up a wellspring of courage in his chest and he stands a little straighter.

Behind him, Koschei shifts restlessly and pokes him in the back. Theta tears his eyes from the girl and frowns, glancing over his shoulder. Met with his best mate’s baleful stare, he asks, “What?”

Koschei rolls his eyes and hisses, “It’s your turn, numpty.”

“Oh. Right.” Theta turns away again, hearts thumping wildly in his chest, and stares straight ahead. The Headmaster waits at the mouth of the vortex, hand outstretched and brows lifted expectantly. Swallowing, Theta shuffles forward one step at a time.

At least his hands aren’t shaking now, as they’ve been all morning. He’d stayed up all night, curled beneath his blankets in the dark, fretting over his initiation. This is his chance to finally leave his guardians behind and go to a respectable school, far away from their scorn and disappointment. This is his chance to show them he isn’t destined to be another drone in Rassilon’s army. He’s good enough to be a Time Lord. He just has to do this first.

The Headmaster claps a hand over his shoulder, steering him toward the Schism, and Theta’s breath catches. He can feel the heat of the vortex against his face, the raw power sizzling against his skin like a sunburn. The time winds ruffle his hair and his tunic. Chest heaving, he shuts his eyes tight and tries not to panic.

He doesn’t want to be a soldier. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone. As the vortex looms ahead of him, unseen but powerfully felt, Theta struggles against his instinct to run. His whole body tenses. And then he remembers her – the brave, pretty girl who’d stared down the space-time continuum and won.

He opens his eyes.

In all his nightmares leading up to his initiation, one thing had always remained the same. Theta would dream of the hearts-pounding terror leading up to his turn at the mouth of the vortex; of sweaty palms and jeering peers; of opening his eyes to stare at some unknowable foe. And then he would run, as far and as fast as his legs would carry him. Never once had his dreams ever shown him what awaited him inside the vortex. And now he knows why. His subconscious could never conjure anything as horrifying as this.

It cannot be described as anything but purely and simply… _Time_. Terrible and infinite; nothing and everything. The lines of the past, present, and future converge and coalesce - light and dark, matter and energy - blending and dividing, shifting and changing right before his eyes. He sees every twisted pathway underlying the whole of creation.

It is the universe in a constant state of flux; every atrocity ever committed or ever to be committed; every possible personal future that lays before him, both good and bad. In the span of seconds, he witnesses the life and death of every living thing. Theta stares right into the heart of Time and sees eternity reflected back at him.

Without blinking, he wrenches violently away from the hand still clasped over his shoulder. Twisting out of the Headmaster’s grasp, he turns and runs. There are shouts behind him but he doesn’t look back, running blindly until the chaos of the time vortex is no longer screaming in his head.

When all he can hear is the thundering of his own hearts in his ears and the pounding of his feet against the ground, Theta stops and collapses to his knees. Panting, he curls into a ball in the grass and clasps his hands over his ears. Around him, the universe spins and spins.

He isn’t sure how long he lays there trembling, eyes squeezed shut and teeth biting into his bottom lip to keep from whimpering. He only knows that once he becomes aware of more than his own terror, there is someone sitting on the ground beside him. Theta doesn’t lift his head, risking only a quick peek through his lashes.

He spots her hair first, realizing with a jolt of surprise that the girl beside him now is the same one he’d been so fascinated by a few minutes and an eternity ago. Catching his stare, the girl smiles tentatively down at him – as though she’s trying to be comforting but doesn’t quite know how. Theta shuts his eyes again, strangely soothed in spite of the fact that they haven’t exchanged a single word.

Though he’s still shaking too badly to express his gratitude for her quiet presence beside him, he’s never been more thankful for anything than he is for her; small and warm against his side, keeping her hand tucked snugly into his as though she can imbue him with some of her bravery through her fingertips. As his pounding hearts slow to their normal rhythm once more, he catches the sweet sound of her soft hum.

Even in his current state, he recognizes it as an old earth lullaby and wonders where she’d heard it. Their people tend to look down on the humans and even more so at Theta for his fascination with them. He likes the humans, likes their funny clothes and their imaginations, the way they cram so much into such short little lives.

He wants to ask the girl if she shares his fondness for the species that looks so much like their own but his eyes are heavy and the space between him and this girl feels sacred, something he shouldn’t disturb. He tightens his grip on her small fingers and swallows his questions, humming along with her instead. She seems to like that, her quiet giggle muffled by his hair.

“Theta? Melody?” They both jump, the illusion of peace that had cocooned them shattered at once. The Headmaster stands before them, arms crossed and mouth pursed in disapproval. “It’s time to go.” He reaches out a hand, guiding them firmly to their feet and ushering them back the way they came. His grip on Theta is too tight, his fingers digging painfully into his shoulder blade.

He loses sight of Melody the moment they return, swarmed by his classmates. In the shuffling crowd, he finds Koschei instead. His friend looks different than the last time Theta had seen him only a short time ago, his face pale and his eyes oddly hollow. “Kosch?” Theta nudges him worriedly, frowning when his friend only blinks. “All right?”

Koschei nods, still looking dazed. “Fine,” he mutters, looking away. He swallows, hesitating. “D’you hear it too?”

“Hear what?”

Rubbing at his temple, Koschei shrugs. “The drumming.”

Theta shakes his head, flexing his empty hand at his side and hearing nothing but Melody’s quiet lullaby.

-

As a species, Gallifreyans tend to consider themselves above physical violence, using their intelligence instead of their fists. Such lack of restraint is far too reminiscent of the humans to be looked upon favorably. Despite their rarity, it’s a mere three days into his first year at the Academy when Theta witnesses his first schoolyard fight.

Lurking on the steps of the Great Hall overlooking the school grounds, Theta sits with his books on his lap and his lunch beside him. Koschei had abandoned him for the sake of an extra hour of sleep, growling something about a headache when pressed. He’d thrown a shoe for good measure and Theta had narrowly escaped their dormitory with his first regeneration still intact. He’ll be furious he’d missed all the excitement. Theta cranes his neck, struggling to see through the crowd of his peers and glimpse what all the fuss is about.

A flash of blonde curls catches his eye and his stomach gives a funny little lurch. He clambers to his feet without thought. His books slide off his lap and skid down the steps to rest in the grass but he hardly notices. It’s Melody.

She stands in front of Androner, the two of them toe-to-toe and glowering at each other in the middle of the crowd. Androner usually sits next to Koschei in the dining hall and as far as Theta can tell, is little more than an arrogant prat – always going on about his father’s Very Important Job in the Gallifreyan Parliament.

Melody seems to agree with him. She punches Androner right in the nose.

He crumples like an old piece of paper, buckling at the knees with a howl of pain – his hand curled protectively around his profusely bleeding nose. Theta grimaces. As much as he dislikes the other boy, he hadn’t witnessed Androner doing anything to incur such wrath. It hardly seems fair to go around punching people for no reason, even if they are arrogant prats.

He stumbles down the steps and into the fray, shouting, “Oi!, that’s enough!”

Flexing her hand, Melody looks up from studying her battered knuckles as the crowd parts to let Theta through. Her lips curl into a smile, as though she recognizes him, but the pleasant surprise on her face fades quickly at his scowl.

Gesturing to Androner, he asks, “What did you go and do that for?”

Stemming the blood flow with the sleeve of his robes, Androner groans miserably, “Half breed savage.”

Melody sneers at him briefly but her eyes quickly return to Theta. She lifts her chin. “Why do you care?”

Theta clenches his jaw, wondering if he’s about to get a fist in the face too. “I don’t like bullies.”

Her eyes narrow and she tosses her curls over her shoulder. “Then maybe you should tell your friend to pick on somebody his own size.”

“He’s not my friend,” Theta mumbles, unwilling to let that particular assumption slip by uncorrected. It’s then that he spots the smaller boy just behind her. He gazes at Theta with wide eyes, his ruined belongings scattered in a puddle beside him. Androner had been bothering someone after all – just not Melody. “Oh.” Theta flushes. “Sorry, I thought you were-”

Melody scowls. “Perhaps next time you should mind your own bloody business then.” She turns on her heel and stalks away, her curls bouncing against her shoulders as she goes.

Leaving the bleeding Androner and everyone else behind, Theta trails hurriedly after her. “Wait, where are you going?”

She sighs, not even glancing over her shoulder as she stomps up the stairs and into the Great Hall. “Didn’t I just warn you to mind your own business?”

“I’m not very good at that,” he admits, shrugging.

“What?” She snorts. “Listening to directions or minding your own business?”

“Both.” He beams at the back of her head, still struggling to catch up. “I’m Theta, by the way.”

She stops suddenly, whirling around in the middle of the hall to meet his stare. Now that he isn’t distracted by fear or a misguided sense of nobility, he can’t help but notice the catlike shape of her bright green eyes or that small bump in the middle of her nose. He’d known before but now, with nothing else to divert his attention – well. She’s…pretty. _Really_ pretty.

“I know,” she says, eyeing him curiously. “I heard the Headmaster call for you back when-”

“Right,” he interrupts, blushing all over again. She’d heard his name when he’d been sniveling like a baby after peering into the Time Vortex. The days since then haven’t softened the experience. In fact, it only grows more horrifying with every nightmare he’s had since. “Thanks.” He ducks his head. “For sitting with me.”

Melody softens a bit, the frost in her eyes warming over just a touch. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” she says quietly, still studying him. “Lots of people cry at their initiation.”

Theta peeks at her through the curtain of his hair. “You didn’t.”

She shrugs, glancing away. “I’ve seen worse.”

He hesitates, staring at her wonderingly. “Androner called you a half breed.”

Barely flinching, Melody stiffens. “What of it?”

“Are you-” Theta fidgets, squirming with the indelicacy of the question on his tongue. “Um, what are-”

“I’m half human.” She glares at him in defiance, and Theta gets the distinct feeling she’s preparing for him to turn on her. “On my father’s side. But I’m not ashamed of it and I’m probably cleverer than any of you so don’t get any ideas about-”

“Actually,” he interrupts softly. “I think you’re brilliant.”

Melody stares at him. “You - you do?” At his nod, she snaps her mouth shut and squares her shoulders. “Of course you do. Why wouldn’t you?”

Theta grins at her. “I’ve only ever read about humans before. What’s duct tape? Do they really use it for everything or is that just a myth?”

She looks away again, the light leaving her eyes. “I don’t know.”

He frowns. “But you said your father-”

“He’s dead,” she snaps, bristling. The words slip from her mouth halting and angry, with a hint of wobble he suspects he isn’t supposed to notice. “My mother too. I may be half human but I don’t know any more about them than you do.”

“Oh.” Theta scratches his cheek, ducking his head to contemplate his shoes. “I don’t have any parents either. Just an older brother I hardly ever see.”

She pauses and he peers at her through his lashes to find her staring at him in surprise. “You’re an orphan?” At his tentative nod, she studies him for another long moment while he does his best not to fidget under her gaze. At last, she snatches up his hand and turns, dragging him with her down the hall. “Come on then.”

He stumbles in his haste to keep up. “Where are we going?”

“I missed breakfast,” she says, steering him through the Academy corridors like she already knows exactly where she’s going after only three days. “Do you want some eggs?”

Theta frowns and digs in his heels, protesting, “But the kitchens are closed!”

Melody laughs brightly and laces their fingers together. “Not to me, it isn’t.” Theta follows her – to the kitchens and everywhere thereafter.

-

His nightmares are always the same – the old woman shrouded in veils and the persistent buzz of flies – but this one is different. The sound of the swarming flies is drowned out by a voice whispering his name. A fly lands on his face and he flinches away from it before he realizes it isn’t a fly at all but someone poking at his cheek. Behind the veils, the old woman opens her eyes. Her dry lips part and a familiar voice spills from her mouth. _Theta_ , she rasps. _Wake up_.

His eyes fly open and he gasps out loud, cowering away from the face looming over him in the dark. A hand reaches out and grasps his blanket before he can pull it over his head. “Don’t be afraid,” says the voice, and now that he’s awake Theta recognizes it instantly. “It’s only me.”

He lowers the blanket and sits up, peering through the dark at Melody standing beside his bed. He squints at her, taking in her rumpled curls and red pajamas. “What – how in Rassilon’s name did you get in here?”

She smiles and he’s already terribly familiar with the smug curl of her mouth. “It was easy.”

Scrubbing a weary hand over his face, he glances at the bed on the other side of the room, astounded to find Koschei still fast asleep. “I can’t believe he didn’t hear you.”

Melody shrugs. “I didn’t want him to.”

As though it’s that simple for her. He has a lot of questions about Melody, but he has a feeling she isn’t in the mood to answer them. Stifling a yawn, Theta shakes his head in an effort to rid himself of the urge to ask her anything and everything. It’s better to just be grateful she’s here. Waking up to Melody’s mischievous grin is loads more preferable to waking alone in the barn, shivering on his cot.

She pokes him again, tugging at his blankets. “Budge over.”

He blinks at her. “Why?”

She huffs. “So I can sit with you, obviously.”

They haven’t been friends long but Theta has already grown used to doing whatever Melody tells him to do. She doesn’t bully him. He just usually finds that he wants to do whatever it is she asks of him anyway. He scoots over and Melody climbs into bed beside him, tucking the blankets around them both. She prods at him with an elbow and he flops onto his back with a sigh, letting her have half of his pillow.

She nestles in close to his side and her curls tickle his cheek. He tries to huff them away but her hair is as persistent as she is, always tumbling back into his eyes right away. He gives up, resigning himself to an itchy cheek. He breathes in as Melody steals some more of his blanket. At least she smells nice.

By the time she’s finally settled and the only sounds Theta can hear are Koschei’s soft snoring and Melody’s quiet, even breaths beside him, his nightmare seems far away and far less threatening. It doesn’t make any sense but with Melody beside him, he feels untouchable. Swallowing, he turns his head and stares at her profile in the dark. “Why are you here?”

Eyes shut, she says simply, “You were having a bad dream.”

He squirms, embarrassed to have been caught, and mumbles half-heartedly, “Was not.” Melody turns her head to look at him and even in the dark her incredulous stare pierces right through him. “So what if I was? You couldn’t have heard it all the way from the girls dormitories.”

Her eyes slide away from him and she tucks her chin beneath the blanket. “I couldn’t sleep,” she says, shrugging. “I thought I’d see if you were up.”

To a boy as familiar with pretending he doesn’t have nightmares as Theta is, he recognizes the signs in another with ease. As Melody avoids his gaze and grips his blanket in her fists, he determines that she’d probably had a bad dream too and sought him out for comfort. He’s slowly starting to understand that Melody doesn’t admit weakness easily and pointing it out only makes her lash out, like those tafelshrews Koschei likes to corner in the woods behind his father’s house. With Melody, it’s far better to let her pretend she’s the one looking after him. Theta, who grows more fond of her with every passing day, is only too happy to put her at ease.

Instead of asking her about her own nightmare, he nudges her shoulder with his chin and whispers, “Thanks for waking me. I hate that dream.”

Melody stifles a giggle when his chin digs into the dip between her neck and shoulder, elbowing him away. The sound of her muffled laugh makes him grin, proud of himself for helping her forget whatever it is that keeps her up so late – if only for a moment. “Prat,” she whispers, still smiling. “What’s your dream about?”

Half expecting to be laughed at, Theta warily recounts his recurring nightmare about the body of the elderly woman he’d seen nearly two years ago, shrouded in black veils and covered in flies. The image of it is still so visceral in his mind that he shudders. Melody doesn’t laugh at him. She gives him a bit more of the blanket and finds his hand in the dark, holding on tight.

“My Auntie Kovarian says having nightmares is a sign of mental weakness.” She bites her lip and her thumb swipes soothingly over his knuckles. “But she looks rather a lot like a nightmare herself so I’m not sure I believe her.”

Theta muffles a snort of laughter into their shared pillow but it’s easy enough to sober when he pictures his friend needing comfort after a bad dream and having just as little of it as he usually does. His smile slips from his face and he latches onto the sleeve of her pajama shirt, rubbing the material of her shirt cuff between his fingertips. “What’re your bad dreams about?”

Melody pauses for a long moment and he expects her to insist she doesn’t have any and then steal the blanket as retribution for even daring to suggest it. Instead, she licks her lips and admits, “Mostly about my mum and dad.”

He bites his lip, studying her. “You don’t remember anything about them?”

She closes her eyes and Theta watches her lashes flutter, mesmerized by the soft smile that curls her lips. “My mum had red hair and my dad always said it could rival the forests at sunrise.” Her smile flickers at the edges and he holds his breath, an ache in his chest. “They called me Mels.”

Theta swallows around the lump in his throat, watching Melody open her eyes and stare blankly at the dark ceiling overhead. Never before faced with such quiet grief, he can’t think of anything at all to say. Nothing seems like enough. So he squeezes her hand and relinquishes a bit more of the blanket. Melody’s mouth twitches like she understands.

“I read about a human superstition once,” he begins quietly, settling deeper into their pillow. “As a way to ward off bad dreams, they used to weave these nets and decorate them with sacred beads and feathers, hoping that it might capture the nightmares and only let the good dreams through. They called them dream catchers. It’s sort of clever, don’t you think?” At Melody’s silence, he flushes. “I know it’s silly but-”

She shakes her head, turning to peer at him. “It’s not. I like it.”

“Yeah?” He grins. “Me too. I know we don’t have any sacred beads or anything but I was thinking maybe…” He squirms, scratching at his cheek. “I dunno, I thought maybe we could be each other’s dream catcher.”

Melody smiles slowly, dropping her head back to their pillow and shutting her eyes. “All right,” she agrees, yawning. “I’d like that.”

Theta beams into the dark, still clinging to her hand.

Across the room, Koschei turns over in his sleep. He flops onto his back, one arm dangling over the side of the bed, and mumbles incoherently about drums. Glancing at each other, Theta and Melody muffle quiet laughter into their hands. They duck their heads beneath the blanket, whispering together until sunrise.

-

If anyone were to ask him why he’s transformed from a lonely orphan boy no one ever noticed into a troublesome prankster who will live in Academic infamy, Theta would blame it on how delightfully devious Melody looks when she’s plotting. The light of mischief in her green eyes practically dances and her lips twist into a sly grin, both of which Theta can never resist. She’ll toss her hair and hold out her hand to him, silently asking if he dares to follow her into one more ridiculous scheme.

Sometimes he thinks she might be testing him, concocting more and more outrageous antics, as if waiting for him to give up on her and find some normal, boring friends. He never does. Koschei is the only one who has bothered to question him but he never asks in quite the right way. It’s never _why are you doing this_ and always _what has that ill-bred she-demon done to you_ or _are you_ trying _to get yourself expelled from the Academy_ or even -

“Have you lost your sodding mind?”

Dangling precariously from the ledge of the clock tower, the ground far far below and his grip beginning to slip, Theta grits his teeth. “Not really the time, Kosch.” He turns his head and cranes his neck, unable to take his eyes off Melody for long. Only her grip on his ankle keeps her from plummeting to the ground below and he watches with his heart in his throat as she stretches out her free hand for her prize.

The Urn of Rassilon.

It’s purely symbolic, Theta reasons with himself as his hand starts to go numb. No Time Lord in their right mind would put the real ashes of Rassilon on top of a clock tower, no matter how prestigious the Academy might be. He assumes the real thing must be in a dusty tomb somewhere. Melody had been convinced the replica would look simply darling sitting on her bedside table. Helpless as ever to say no to her, Theta had once again found himself a very willing accomplice to thievery.

He wiggles his fingers, trying to gain a bit of feeling back in them. Instead, his grip slackens. His hand slips.

There’s barely even time to yelp before another hand grabs his and holds on tight, yanking him and Melody back from a messy regeneration. Theta turns his head and finds Koschei braced against the ledge, his red school cloak abandoned beside him as he grips Theta’s hand with both of his own. “You idiot,” Koschei snarls, black hair slipping into his eyes. “I told you she would get you killed.”

Theta grimaces, feeling Melody dig her nails into his ankle. “Actually you said she’d get me expelled, if you want to be technical about it.”

Koschei grunts, adjusting his grip. “Same thing.”

“Oh lighten up, Kosch. You’re starting to sound like your dad.” Koschei glowers and Theta laughs – hanging in mid-air and still alive only because Koschei hasn’t let go yet. The thrill of it makes his hearts pound and he grins broadly in the face of his friend’s scowl, turning his head to peer down at Melody once more. “Finished yet?”

“Got it.” Melody looks up, the Urn hanging precariously from her fingertips, and beams. “Pull us up, will you?”

“Working on it.” Theta un-pries one of his hands from the ledge and grasps the collar of Koschei’s shirt instead, ignoring the other boy’s growl of protest. He hangs on tight and Koschei pulls, staggering back one step at a time as he pulls both Theta and Melody back to safety.

Theta drops back inside the tower first, Melody still hanging onto his leg. He stumbles a bit, scrambling forward to reach for her hand. She takes it and with the last of his strength, he hauls her out of the air and back into the tower. They land together in a heap on the floor, Melody on his chest and the Urn resting safely beside her.

She giggles breathlessly, her every exhale a warm puff of air against the side of his neck. Theta laughs again, his fingers still white-knuckled around her shirt sleeve, and wills his pounding hearts to slow. Melody lifts her head and their eyes meet. For a moment, Theta forgets to breathe.

“Thanks for not dropping me,” she says, still grinning.

“Never.” He licks his lips, trying to decipher the strange warmth flooding his veins. “I’ll always catch you.”

Sprawled near his abandoned cloak, his chest heaving and his cheeks flushed from exertion and rage, Koschei lifts his head with a glare. “Did you hit your head when I pulled you up? You’d _both_ be gooey splatters on the ground begging to regenerate by now if it wasn’t for me-”

“Shh.” Melody scrambles off Theta, narrowly avoiding kneeing him in the gut in her haste. She runs to the overlook, peering out over the school grounds. Theta and Koschei exchange a puzzled glance, watching her in silent befuddlement. She’s utterly still, as if frozen in time itself. Finally, she says, “The Headmaster’s coming.”

“Told you,” Koschei says, looking smug. “Expelled.”

Melody whirls from the ledge with a glare. “And what do you think will happen to you if he catches you with us? Ever heard of guilt by association, numpty?”

Theta props himself up on an elbow and huffs his hair out of his eyes. “She’s got a point, mate.”

Lifting his chin, Koschei says, “I’ll just tell him I had nothing to do with it.”

Melody scoffs. “And you think he’ll just believe you?”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“It’ll be our word against yours.”

Koschei labors to his feet, hands balled into fists as he steps toward Melody. “If he won’t believe me, what makes you think he’ll believe you, half breed?” He sneers and Theta clenches his jaw. “You’ve been in trouble since the first day of term.”

Melody lurches toward him with an angry snarl and it’s only Theta stumbling to his feet and putting himself between them that saves Koschei from a black eye. “Enough,” he says, glaring at Koschei in particular. “Now isn’t the time unless you’d both like detention until our fifth regenerations.”

Though she still looks cross, Melody nods grudgingly and reaches for his hand. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

Without a backward glance at Koschei, she yanks Theta toward the stairwell. Theta glances over his shoulder to make sure his friend is following, watching as Koschei rolls his eyes and snatches up the Urn, grumbling under his breath. “I didn’t save you idiots for nothing.”

Theta stifles a smile, turning his attention to the spiral staircase beneath his feet. Melody still hasn’t let go of his hand but his feet have a mind of their own and the last thing he needs is to trip and tumble all the way down. He’d never hear the end of it from either of them if his next body is the result of his own clumsiness.

They reach the bottom of the stairs and Koschei slips past them for the door, motioning impatiently. “This way,” he says, and slinks through the door and around the clock tower, heading in the opposite direction of where Melody had last seen the Headmaster. Exchanging a glance, Theta and Melody follow Koschei’s lead and sprint across the school grounds to the library.

By the time they collapse at a table in the back of the vast, quiet hall, the three of them are out of breath and stifling laughter. As the sound of authoritative footsteps echo through the room, Melody stuffs the Urn safely inside her satchel and kicks Theta beneath the table to quell his giggling. He grimaces, clasping a hand over his aching shin as the Headmaster approaches their table, looking furious.

“Well?” He asks, and in the quiet of the library, his voice is thunderous. Several students at other tables jump, glancing up in bewilderment. “Where is it?”

Their Headmaster is not a small man, but tall and broad – like Rassilon himself. Theta can’t help but shy away from his piercing stare as the man looms over them but Melody meets his gaze without flinching. Hands folded primly in front of her, she asks in a voice all innocence, “Where’s what, Headmaster?”

Theta stares at her, in awe of her composure.

“You know what,” their Headmaster snaps. “The Urn of Rassilon.”

Melody widens her eyes and Theta bites his lip, torn between amusement and horror. “The Urn of Rassilon is missing?”

“Enough.” The Headmaster clenches his jaw, nostrils flaring. “I know it was you and that other orphaned urchin.” He waves a hand at Theta and Melody stiffens, eyes narrowing. “It’s always you two.”

She lifts her chin. “And what proof do you have?”

“Other than witnessing the two of you hanging from the clock tower myself? Not a wit.” The Headmaster arches an eyebrow, smirking when Theta wilts in defeat. “Now about your punishment-”

Koschei clears his throat and they all turn to him curiously. Theta had nearly forgotten he was there, too caught up in the shining brilliance of Melody’s bravery. He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, looking a bit like he does when he’s ordering his servants about whenever Theta visits. “You must be mistaken, Headmaster. Theta and Melody have been studying with me all afternoon. It couldn’t have been them.”

Across from him, Melody lifts her head and stares at him, her face a picture of astonishment. Theta gapes at him too, knowing full well that he’s challenging the Headmaster. Without concrete proof, it is only his word against Koschei’s. Their Headmaster sighs and for one brief moment, Theta is convinced they’re going to get away with it.

And then he produces something from behind his back – a red cloak with Koschei’s family seal embroidered on the breast pocket. Theta nearly groans, remembering how his friend had shed the cumbersome garment in order to haul him and Melody back over the clock tower ledge.

With a disappointed tsk, the Headmaster says, “I expected better of you especially, considering your family name.” He eyes all three of them sternly. “Now. Produce that Urn at once.”

With a grumbling sigh, Melody nudges her satchel toward him with her foot.

The Headmaster glares.

They spend two weeks doing chores for the Headmaster as punishment – cleaning his office, sorting his papers, and fetching his tea. Koschei is suitably furious about being treated like a servant and complains every chance he gets. Theta is far too used to his generally contentious demeanor to mind but to his astonishment, even Melody manages to cling to her patience.

It’s then that he realizes Koschei had earned her grudging respect. He had shown loyalty when he didn’t have to and had been punished accordingly. Theta is starting to understand Melody well enough to know what that means. She’ll be loyal to Koschei now too, whether she actually likes him or not.

For the rest of the term, they’re a team. Melody comes up with the prank, Theta devises a haphazard plan to make it happen, and Koschei makes sure their recklessness doesn’t get them caught. _Only because I don’t want my association with you two idiots getting me in trouble again_ , he insists with a glower.

Exchanging amused glances, Melody and Theta pretend to believe him.

-

When summer holidays arrive, they convene most days at Koschei’s.  As the only one of them with real parents and a home rather than careless guardians or a terrible aunt, it makes sense to gather in the place where they’ll have the most freedom. And nothing in the whole wide universe speaks of freedom the way those endless fields do. They spend their days running through pastures of red grass, shouting to the sky and hearing their voices echo back to them, surrounded as they are by the vast slopes of Mount Perdition.

With his friends so near and the suns overhead warming his skin, Theta’s home life and its daily frets are no more trouble to him than a distant star. There are no bad dreams and no sneering guardians here, whispering that he’ll never amount to anything. That ramshackle house where he lives in the drylands doesn’t exist at all. Out here, he belongs.

“Your girlfriend is late.”

Theta lifts his head from the task of plucking the grass between his knees, eyeing Koschei through his fringe. His hair is always flopping into his eyes, growing more and more troublesome by the day. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he stammers, blushing.

Koschei snorts – the most undignified noise Theta has ever heard him make. “Is that the best you can do? Rubbish.”

“She isn’t.” Theta goes back to plucking at the grass, a bit more aggressively this time. “She’s just a friend, like you are.”

Wrinkling his nose, Koschei says, “Please tell me you don’t stare at _me_ with those moony eyes when I’m not looking. It’s bad enough witnessing it, let alone being on the receiving end of it.”

Cheeks warm, Theta scowls and mumbles, “Oh, shut it.”

Furthering bickering is interrupted when he spots Melody walking toward them over Koschei’s shoulder. Theta brightens, lifting a hand to wave at her. It’s only when Koschei snorts again that he becomes conscious of the smile stretching his cheeks. Despite his best attempts to stifle it, he can’t quite keep the corners of his mouth from curling up.

“It isn’t like that,” he hisses under his breath, still watching Melody approach. She holds out her hands, brushing the long red grass with her fingertips as she moves. “She’s just nicer than you. Of course I’m happy to see her.”

“Nice?” Koschei stares at him. “You think she’s _nice_? Bloody hell, you’re hopeless.”

“What are you idiots going on about?”

Theta turns as Melody sinks onto the ground beside them – and stares. She doesn’t meet their questioning gazes, actively avoiding eye contact as she reaches out a hand and brushes the grass from Theta’s trouser legs with a tsk of disapproval. As a distraction, it’s a poor attempt.

With his hearts in his throat, Theta says nothing as he takes in her pale face and the dark circles under her eyes, as though she hasn’t been sleeping. Her fatigue is nothing compared to the cut he spots above her eye, hiding just beneath the curls slipping over her forehead. There are bruises on her arms too, some of which seem to have taken the shape of fingers.

He swallows, struggling to find words, but Koschei has no such difficulties. “What the bloody hell happened to you?”

Melody stiffens, as though Koschei had broken some unspoken rule by daring to bring it up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t know what -” Koschei gestures at her irritably. “You look like you got into a cat fight with a Cloister Wraith.”

“I’m fine,” she snaps, glowering. “And it’s none of your business anyway.”

Theta draws in a breath, forcing words past his tight throat. “Melody, your arms-”

“It’s nothing.” She bristles, and though she has no problem glaring at Koschei, she can’t quite seem to look at Theta. “I had a nightmare and fell out of bed.”

He shakes his head, hair flopping into his eyes. “You don’t expect me to believe that, do you? Melody, those are _fingerprints_.”

She clenches her jaw, silent.

Hands flexing into fists, Theta struggles to keep the anger burning in his veins from bleeding into his voice. “Was it her? That horrible aunt of yours?” Melody still doesn’t speak, teeth grinding together and eyes fastened stubbornly on her lap. Theta, normally the quiet and peaceable one of the three of them, struggles with the new and unfamiliar urge to hit something. “I swear I’ll-”

“Stop it.” Melody lifts her head, eyes flashing. There’s a fierce sort of protectiveness in her face and it takes Theta a moment to understand the person she’s trying to protect is him. “You’ve never hurt even a fly and you’re not about to start now, you idiot. So shut up about it and tell me what the plan is for today. Have you thought about setting those pig-rats loose in the Department of Administrative Records?”

She stares him down, her green eyes narrowed, as if daring him to venture back into territory she had just deemed unacceptable. Theta stares right back at her. Most of the time he’s content to do whatever Melody wants – letting her boss him about either because it’s easier than trying to resist her will or because they’re usually of the same mind in what they want anyway. But he doesn’t want to let this go – not this time.

As determined as Melody seems to protect him, he wants to keep her safe just as much. Maybe she won’t let him near her aunt and maybe she won’t talk about the bruises on her arms but there are other ways to look after her. Keeping her from inciting panic amongst government employees when she looks dead on her feet is one of them.

Finally breaking eye contact, Theta exchanges a swift, weighted glance with Koschei who frowns and nods once. Relieved, Theta licks his lips and begins with a shrug, “Actually, Koschei’s got another headache so we thought we might just stay here today. Do some cloud watching, maybe badger the cook for some of those chocolate biscuits.”

He cringes even as he says it, knowing how much Melody hates sitting still. When she flops onto her back into the grass and agrees without protest, he nearly sags in relief even as her easy agreement troubles him. She must truly be exhausted to concede to such a quiet, lazy afternoon. His mind races with all the possibilities of why she’s so tired and pale, all the ways her horrid aunt could have spent the hours terrorizing her since he saw her last. He stares at her unashamedly, his hearts raw and open.

Melody doesn’t appear to notice his scrutiny, studying the clouds sleepily. “That one looks a bit like a TARDIS, doesn’t it?”

Shifting to lay down beside her, Theta feels his whole body relax into the grass when Melody instantly turns toward him and lets her head rest against his. Her hair tickles his ear and he stifles a smile, lacing their hands together. Forcing his gaze away from her profile and toward the sky, he finds the cloud she’s referring to and hums. “I see it,” he murmurs. “Do you think we’ll ever get our own TARDIS?”

“Of course we will.” She says it with the same confidence she says everything else, as though she can make things happen just by wanting them enough. “How else will we travel the universe together?”

Theta brightens at once, grinning. “Really? You want to travel with me?”

“Well I’m certainly not staying here forever. And you’d be terribly bored without me.” She shifts her gaze toward him almost shyly, as if waiting for him to disagree. He can’t begin to understand why he would want to when she’s completely right. Imagining his life without Melody in it, letting her swan off to see the universe and leaving him here to go on without the adventure she brings to every minute of his life, is unfathomable.  

“Gallifrey without you?” Theta shakes his head, still struggling to contain the wideness of his smile. “I’d rather be rid of it completely first.”

Melody beams at him.

Koschei lifts his head, tufts of red grass caught in his dark hair as he scowls at them. Belatedly remembering his friend’s earlier teasing about Melody being his girlfriend, Theta realizes the last few minutes haven’t exactly proved him wrong, and blushes. He braces himself for further torment, glancing uneasily at Melody.

“And what about me? You can’t just leave me here with my father and a boring bloody government job.”

Theta rolls his eyes, relief softening his reply. “Of course not. You’re coming with us, obviously.”

With a teasing sigh, Melody relents, “If you must.”

Slightly appeased, Koschei sticks out his tongue at her.

Before they can start bickering, Theta asks, “Where will we go?”

Eyes fastened on the sky, Melody smiles. “Everywhere.”

With a lazy smile, Koschei flops back into the grass and agrees, “Everywhere. Unless I find better company, of course.”

Melody elbows him. “Better company certainly wouldn’t include you.”

Theta snorts, grinning. “So it’s settled then. After the Academy, we’re off.”

Rubbing his sore side, Koschei eyes Melody warily and agrees, “Every star in the universe.”

Tightening her grip on Theta’s hand, Melody shuts her eyes and for a moment, Theta forgets about her bruises and the dark circles beneath her eyes. He forgets about her aunt and the fierce protectiveness still curled around his hearts. There is only her hand in his and the future spread out before them.

Face tilted toward the sky, Melody breathes, “You watch us run.”


	2. the academy years: i'm younger now since you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Koschei may have first accused him of having a crush when they were just kids but not much has changed since then, despite the time that has passed. Theta still spends most of his days chasing after Melody, indulging her every whim when she smiles at him and consumed with breathless exhilaration when she puts them in danger just for the fun of it. And he’s still absolutely terrified of the way he feels when he looks at her – like he’d found home as an eight-year-old boy and no amount of stuttering denial is ever going to change that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Sketches of Summer by Roo Panes. 
> 
> In which Theta pines, Koschei mocks, and Melody is...Melody.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161648709@N02/45686167641/in/dateposted-public/)

* * *

 

Standing on top of the clock tower, her arms flung out wide and her head tipped back to feel the nighttime breeze ruffle her curls, Melody makes quite the picture. Even mid-panic attack Theta can appreciate the sight of her against the backdrop of stars, a lonely goddess surveying all of creation from her perch. She smiles as she gazes down at him, her nose crinkling in that way he still finds impossible to resist.

“Have I told you lately your girlfriend is sodding mad?”

Theta grits his teeth, refusing to take his eyes off Melody just in case she decides to jump when he isn’t looking. “She’s still not my girlfriend.”

Koschei may have first accused him of having a crush when they were just kids but not much has changed since then, despite the time that has passed. Theta still spends most of his days chasing after Melody, indulging her every whim when she smiles at him and consumed with breathless exhilaration when she puts them in danger just for the fun of it. And he’s still absolutely terrified of the way he feels when he looks at her – like he’d found home as an eight-year-old boy and no amount of stuttering denial is ever going to change that.

As if reading his mind, Koschei rolls his eyes. “Are you two ever going to stop pretending you haven’t been married since we were eight?”

“Now isn’t really the time to have an investment in my love life,” Theta snaps, running his fingers through his hair. It flops immediately back into his eyes and he growls, gazing up at Melody like the force of his stare might keep her from losing her balance. “Melody-”

She opens her eyes. “Yes, honey?”

Valiantly resisting the urge to blush – especially with Koschei snickering like that behind him – Theta clears his throat. “What exactly are you doing up there?”

She shrugs, as though she isn’t balancing precariously on the very edge of the clock tower roof. “I like it up here.”

“I can see that.” He inches forward cautiously, craning his neck to look at her. “Planning to come down any time soon?” The moment the question is out of his mouth, he regrets it. Melody smiles and he feels panic claw its way up his throat. It makes him anxious enough to scold her – not that it ever seems to do any good. She always seems to find his anger endlessly amusing. “Melody Pond, you get down from there right now or I swear to Rassilon I’ll-”

“What?” She lifts an eyebrow and even from his place on the ground, Theta can see the sparkle of mischief in her eyes. He braces himself for something outrageous to slip past her lips. “Spank me?”

He really does blush this time, feeling his cheeks and the tips of his ears positively burning as he chokes out a scandalized, “ _Melody_.”

She laughs brightly.

Beside him, Koschei forms an O around his mouth with his hands, calling up to her. “Come on then. Theta already looks at you like you’re some kind of angel anyway. Let’s see if you’ve got wings.”

Theta coughs, elbowing him violently. “ _Shut_. _Up_.” Quite sure his face will never return to its normal color again but will instead forever match his red school robes, he hisses, “And stop encouraging her. She hardly needs the incentive.”

Ignoring them both, Melody shouts down to him from above. “Do you remember when we were kids and tried to steal the Urn of Rassilon?”

The Headmaster had removed it from the clock tower after their little escapade, putting it in a place of honor in his office instead. Melody has been scheming to sneak in and take it again ever since. “Yes,” he admits, unable to stifle a smile at the memory despite himself. “Why?”

Melody lifts her arms again, holding them out like she’s about to take flight. “You promised you would always catch me.”

“Yes…” Theta eyes her warily, his hearts starting to pound in his ears. “I remember. Why?”

Tipping her head down, Melody somehow manages to find his eyes with her own even from so high up. She studies him silently for a moment, her arms still spread wide like wings. “Did you mean it?”

“Of course I-” Eyes going wide, Theta shakes his head. “Melody, _no_. Don’t you _dare_ -”

She jumps anyway.

Theta watches helplessly as she steps right off the ledge without a moment of hesitation and falls. She’s as graceful in this as she is everything else, sailing through the air like she was always meant to, her arms outstretched and a daring grin on her face. Theta is nothing like her, his body tall and gangly and clumsier than anyone else on the whole planet. Possibly even the whole universe.

But he has her courage and her daring, has had it ever since the day she gave it to him by holding his hand that first day. And while his guardians insist he’ll never be a _real_ Time Lord, he still has the strength of one. So he lurches forward with his arms out and his mind repeating only _keep her safe keep her safe_.

Melody lands against his chest and somehow doesn’t kill them both. He catches her in his arms and holds her tightly to him even as he stumbles and hits the ground hard. It knocks the breath from his lungs and he groans, a wheezing cough escaping his mouth.

Though he’s vaguely conscious of Koschei looking on and laughing himself sick, Theta isn’t truly aware of much else beside Melody. She lands right on top of him, her hands clinging to his shoulders and her wild hair in his face. Forehead pressed to his and her hearts pounding a thundering rhythm that matches his own, she laughs breathlessly and all he can focus on is the soft scent of her skin and the stolen whiskey on her breath. It almost makes up for the terror still screaming in his veins.

Almost.

Still sprawled beneath her and gasping for breath, he rasps, “What the hell were you thinking?” He glares at her, seething. “Have you completely taken leave of your senses?”

“Probably,” she agrees cheerily. “Good thing I’ve got you to look after them for me.”

Theta huffs his hair out of his eyes and watches as she pushes off him and rises gracefully to her feet. “I hate you,” he grumbles.

Melody brushes herself off and holds out a hand to help him stand. Still glowering at her but hungry for the feel of her warm fingers wrapped around his – reassurance that she hadn’t managed to hurt herself in another reckless stunt – Theta takes her hand and lets her pull him up. It’s only when he’s standing beside her that she squeezes his fingers and winks. “No, you don’t.”

-

On the days before Professor Borusa’s exams, the ancient library at the Academy – older than even the entire planet of Gallifrey, Theta suspects – is usually packed with students. It’s dead quiet save for the rustle of pages as stressed Time Lords in training try to adequately prepare themselves for the blood bath to come. The vast hall echoes with the frantic whispers of study groups and the rustle of notes being passed.

Koschei has been on edge all week – glaring at anyone who dares to make him look up from his textbooks for longer than it takes to shove a sandwich into his mouth – and he isn’t the only one. The library is brimming with others just like him, hunched over their lecture notes and textbooks, flipping through pages and dipping their quills into ink as they scribble furiously.

Unwilling to put much effort into studying on a good day, Theta sits hunched over the spare parts of a human invention he’s pretty sure is called a _toaster_. He’s been pretending to study how it works for the better part of half an hour but his attention has been elsewhere for just as long. So far, five tables away and practically in the lap of that bully Androner, Melody hasn’t yet noticed his unrelenting scrutiny. She’s ignoring her lecture notes in favor of smiling at Androner, their heads bent close together as they whisper to one another.

“Can you believe she actually agreed to a date with that pillock?” His voice is too loud in the quiet library and Koschei flinches as several people glance up from studying to glare at him. Melody and Androner aren’t among them and he isn’t sure if he should feel relieved or annoyed by that. Everyone goes back to studying except Koschei, who levels him with a knowing look. Theta swallows, fidgeting. “What?”

“Androner may have been a bully in first year but it’s been ages since then.” Koschei massages his fingertips against his temple, a clear sign of another of his headaches coming on, and manages a tired smirk. “Aren’t we a bit old for that sort of nonsense now?”

“Maybe.” Theta juts out his chin, eyes wandering back to the table where Melody sits. She reaches up a hand to smooth back Androner’s hair and Theta feels a muscle in his jaw twitch. “But he’s still a prat.”

Koschei scoffs quietly. “Just admit that you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” He drags his gaze forcibly away from the display at the other table, his hearts a tangle of knots in his chest. “I’m... _concerned_. She could do better, that’s all.”

Arching an eyebrow, Koschei mutters, “You’re an idiot.” He hunches over his notes again, his eyes scanning the page but his mind somehow still managing to find the wherewithal to keep berating him. “It’s your own fault, you know. You’ve known her since first year, you’ve seen her every bloody day since then, and you still haven’t asked her out. You can’t blame her for not waiting round for her bicentennial in the hopes you’ll eventually stop being such a coward.”

Knowing deep down that however much his friend’s words may make him bristle, Koschei is absolutely right, Theta slumps in his seat and frowns. “She’s my best friend. Besides you, I mean.” He shrugs morosely, his gaze drawn inevitably back toward Melody. She’s laughing as Androner whispers something in her ear. Theta swallows hard. “I don’t want to ruin it.”

Koschei casts a meaningful glance between Melody and Theta’s white-knuckled grip on his textbook. “How’s that going?”

Theta drops the book and crosses his arms over his chest with a mumbled, “Shut up.”

The day seems to drag on forever and Theta feels the weight of every miserable minute itching under his skin. He walks around with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, barely touching his food and not hearing any of his class lectures. He goes to bed early, forcing himself not to wonder what Melody might be doing and if she’s still out with that prat Androner.

It doesn’t work and he lies awake for a long time, listening to Koschei snore on the other side of the room and wondering if maybe his friend is right. Maybe by trying so hard not to ruin anything about his relationship with Melody, he’s actually doing more harm than good. What if she actually stays with Androner? What if they get married? How would he stand it? What if he can’t? What if he has to stop hanging out with Melody because he can’t bear to see her with someone who isn't him?

He wonders what might have happened if he’d been brave years ago, if he’d actually taken a chance and hoped Melody wouldn’t laugh in his face. It could have been him whispering in her ear in the library today; him holding her hand in the corridors between classes; him out with her doing Rassilon knows what right this minute.

He snorts to himself, shaking his head. Who is he kidding? Melody would never be interested in more than friendship with him. She’s beautiful and funny and smart and braver than him by half. Melody is everything good about humans and Time Lords personified. And Theta is… Theta. Forever an orphan in his hearts, he constantly expects those he loves to leave him and tends to hold on too hard because of it. He spends his free time fiddling with human gadgets he buys off the underground market in the city, making him a source of mockery among most of his peers. He has gangly limbs and clumsy feet. His hair is always flopping into his eyes like it has a mind of its own and he blushes at the slightest innuendo. What could Melody possibly want with someone like him?

With a groan, Theta kicks at his blankets and rolls over – just in time to catch sight of the door opening and a shadowy, familiar form creep across the room. He stares, certain his eyes must be playing tricks on him. She can’t be here. She’s supposed to be out with Androner. But he knows that hair – he’s spent years staring at it, dreaming about it. He’d recognize those curls anywhere, even in the dark.

“Melody?”

She settles on the edge of his bed, curls slipping into her eyes as she peers down at him. “Expecting someone else?”

“Course.” He grins loftily, his anxieties dissipating with her sitting right in front of him. It’s difficult to worry about much of anything when Melody is in the room. “You’re not the only girl sneaking into my dorm you know.”

She rolls her eyes, nudging at him gently. “Budge over, idiot.”

He makes room for her, trying and failing to stifle his smile as she slips beneath the blankets and rests her head on her usual half of his pillow. She turns on her side to face him and despite how glad he is to see her, he can’t help but ask, “What are you doing here?”

She rests her cheek on her palm, blinking at him in the dark. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Thought you had a date.” The bitterness leaking into his voice must not be only in his imagination because Melody pauses, eyeing him quizzically for a moment. Theta squirms guiltily, accidentally stealing more than his fair share of the blankets in the process.

“I did,” she finally answers. “It’s over.”

“Oh.” He avoids her gaze, licking his lips. “How was it?”

“It was all right.” She shrugs. “Androner may not be a complete prat anymore but it turns out that was the only thing that made him interesting.”

Theta snorts, quietly relieved. “No second date?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Melody frowns, pursing her lips thoughtfully. “He’s not a terrible kisser, which makes studying a bit more fun.”

A heavy, unbearable weight sinks into Theta’s stomach and he tries valiantly to ignore it. He shuts his eyes and swallows hard, tasting acid. “So long as you’re happy,” he forces out, and truly does mean it. Melody’s happiness means more to him than anything in the universe – even more than the nausea he feels whenever he thinks of her kissing anyone. Like Koschei had said, it isn’t her fault he waited too long. “That’s all I care about, you know.”

“I know.” Melody reaches out a hand and brushes Theta’s fringe from his forehead. His eyes flutter open at her gentle touch and he stares at her, frozen in place with his breath caught in his throat. She drops her hand and burrows further into the blankets, oblivious to the butterflies in his stomach. “He’ll do, I suppose. Until something better comes along.”

He forces a laugh. “Biding your time then?”

She hums, watching him carefully. “Something like that.” Curling into his side, she lets her head fall to the crook of his shoulder. They’ve always been close, always reached for each other’s hand and shared the same pillow but lately, every time she’s near Theta feels like his hearts are going to smash through his ribcage and cause a spontaneous regeneration. “Tell me a story. One of your human fairytales.”

Slowly relaxing into the mattress, he sighs and hopes she doesn’t notice the pounding of his hearts beneath her ear. Letting his head drop to rest atop hers, he shuts his eyes again and whispers, “Once upon a time…”

-

As the locked door to the Headmaster’s office swings open, Melody tucks her pin back into her wild hair and stands triumphantly. She steps inside but Theta stands helplessly in the corridor with his mouth agape, silently wondering if Time Lords are capable of those aneurysms he’s always reading about in human medical textbooks. “Melody,” he hisses, refusing to acknowledge the squeak of panic in his voice. “What are you _doing_?”

She pauses in the middle of the room to glance over her shoulder, frowning when she realizes he hadn’t followed her inside. With a shrug, she raises her hand and snaps her fingers. Theta watches, entranced, as a previously innocuous bookshelf sprouts a door that slides open and spills a cold blue light across the Headmaster’s thick office rug. Smirking broadly, Melody asks, “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Theta scowls, his panic evaporating in the face of her nonchalance and making room for anger instead. “It looks like you’ve broken into the Headmaster’s office and you’re about to steal his TARDIS.”

She hums, inching brazenly forward to peer into the ship. “Goodness, he could use a woman’s touch in here. Not one throw pillow.”

He grits his teeth. “Melody, this isn’t – hang on.” He leans forward, half in the office and half in the corridor. “How did you do that without a key? No one can open a TARDIS by snapping their fingers.”

Eyeing him triumphantly over her shoulder, she replies, “I just did.”

“Yes but-” He sighs, shaking his head. “Never mind that. You heard the Headmaster last week. You’re _one_ more reprimand away from getting expelled.”

Melody grins. “Then we’d better not get caught.” Before he can utter one more word of protest, she darts inside the TARDIS and leaves the door open behind her in clear, unmistakable invitation.

Theta bites his lip, deliberating. “Melody?”

She doesn’t respond and he has a feeling she wouldn’t even if he shouted. She’s giving him a choice. He can either refuse to yield to yet another of her ridiculous demands and let her leave and have all the fun without him _or_ he can go with her. It’s hardly fair. Melody knows he’s dreamed of escaping Gallifrey all his life. In the end, there’s really only one acceptable option.

“Wait for me!”

Abandoning the corridor completely, Theta races across the room and trips over the rug halfway there, staggering the rest of the way into the TARDIS. He catches himself on the railing inside, lifting his head with a grimace to find Melody leaning her hip against the console and grinning. “Nice of you to join me.”

He huffs his hair out of his eyes and insists, “Only to keep you out of trouble.”

Melody scoffs, tossing her curls over her shoulder. “You can’t lie to me, Theta. You love trouble.”

Actually, he’s yet to figure out if he loves trouble because it’s always following her around or if he loves her for the same reason. So far, he’s pretty sure it’s a tie. With a noncommittal hum, Theta tugs at his collar and peers around with barely concealed delight. It’s not as if he hasn’t been inside a TARDIS before but he’s never actually gone anywhere. Driving lessons are dreadfully dull. “Do you even know how to fly this thing?”

“I certainly know more than you,” she teases, whirling to study the controls. “I actually read the manual.”

Theta pouts, pushing off the railing and moving to join her. He watches as she gravitates toward a set of keys and begins to type – coordinates, probably, but he doesn’t bother paying attention. “I might have tried if it wasn’t so _boring_.”

“Poor baby,” Melody coos, in a voice that goes straight through him. “No pictures?”

Grinning despite himself, Theta reaches out a hand and taps her fondly on the nose. “Exactly.”

She swats him away with a laugh, dropping her hand to an interesting looking lever. “Just a warning, sweetie,” she says, giving her shoulders a little shimmy. “You might want to find something to hang onto.”

Melody pulls the lever and the ship lurches into action. Without a whisper of noise, they disappear from the Headmaster’s office and enter the vortex but as the time winds whirl around them the ship begins to shudder and tremble, tossing them about like rag dolls.

In spite of Melody’s warning, Theta stumbles into her with a yelp. She fares only a little better, one hand clinging to his and the other to the console. Theta grips her to him, barely minding the turbulence when it means getting to be this unexpectedly close to her. He can smell schlenk blossoms in her hair and the curve of her hip is soft and warm beneath his palm.

Stretching out a hand, Melody slaps the blue button on the console and the shaking stops. As the ship settles around them, Theta clears his throat and drops his hand from her hip, taking a reluctant step back. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looks away from Melody’s laughing grin and heaving chest with a harrumph of complaint. “Boring. I thought you liked a little excitement.”

“Excitement, honey,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Not whiplash.”

A ping on the console lets them know they’ve landed. Eager to put a bit more distance between them – and at the same time, wanting to erase the distance that’s already there – Theta stumbles for the door. Melody latches onto his wrist, yanking him back with a huff. “Oi! Rude.”

She smirks. “Another part of reading the manual is remembering the environment checks.”

He sticks out his tongue. “And what if I want to be surprised?”

Raising an eyebrow, she asks, “And if you walk outside and find an inhospitable environment?”

Holding up his hands with a grin, he replies, “You don’t call a new regeneration a surprise?”

Muttering about his idiocy under her breath, Melody drags him to the monitor and turns it on. “There. Look familiar?”

“What are you-” She glances at him over her shoulder, watching with a smile as he peers at the screen. He’s never been but he’d recognize Big Ben anywhere. “That’s…”

“Earth,” she agrees quietly, and when he forces his gaze from the screen he finds her eyes shining as she looks at him. “London, 1963.”

Theta stares at her, unable to quell his ridiculous grin. “You clever girl. You took me to my favorite planet.” He swallows hard. Caught in her gaze, he rocks forward on his toes and breathes out, “Melody Pond, I could kiss you.”

Mischief fills her eyes at once and Theta watches fondly as a smirk curls her mouth. “What’s stopping you?”

He stutters in surprise, blushing all the way up to his ears. “Well, I-”

Melody laughs and reaches for one of his flailing hands. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s have a look around.”

They walk through the city for hours, Theta dragging Melody from one shop to the next to gather more human innovations to take home and study. They people watch in the park, Melody sitting beside him beneath a tree – humans have _green trees_ – as he takes apart his hotdog in an effort to determine its origin. He gives up after a while and just devours the candy floss, whinging a bit until Melody sighs and shares her popcorn with him too.

It’s a hot afternoon so when they’re through with their strange meal, Melody tugs him to a fountain in the park and climbs in. She splashes him until he has no choice but to clamber in after her and splash her back. It isn’t long before they’re both laughing and drenched from head to toe, chased out of the park by security.

They run back to the TARDIS hand-in-hand, both of them wearing wide, exhilarated grins and weighed down with Theta’s human toys. Melody pilots them away and just for him, she doesn’t press the boring blue button this time. Still dripping wet and giggling, they stumble out back into the Headmaster’s office.

“I can’t believe you dunked a police officer in the fountain.” Theta ruffles his wet hair, grinning. “Did you see his...” He trails off when Melody goes still, glancing at her just in time to see the smile slip right off her face. With trepidation, he follows the line of her gaze and finds the Headmaster standing right in front of them, his arms crossed and his foot tapping an agitated rhythm against the floor. “Oh.”

“Yes,” he seethes, his brows drawn together and his face unnervingly red. “ _Oh_.”

Theta glances at Melody again, his hearts sinking when he takes in her wide eyes and pale face. She stands frozen, dripping water all over the Headmaster’s rug. She doesn’t have a plan to get out of this particular scrape and they’d been reckless enough to leave Koschei behind so they’ll be getting no help from him either. He licks his lips, venturing, “Sir-”

“Hush.” The Headmaster glares, beady eyes fixed on Melody. “Miss Pond, I believe we discussed what would happen the next time you recklessly disobeyed Academy rules.”

Melody stiffens, lifting her chin, and Theta realizes she’s preparing to be kicked out. His whole world slows to a crawl as the knowledge settles over him. This can’t be happening. Melody is far too clever to be expelled; far too brilliant to squander all that potential. And what use is the Academy if he has to stay here without her? He’d told her once that Gallifrey would be unbearable without her but right now his whole world exists in this school and not having her in it with him would feel like losing her completely.

And where would she go? It’s horrible enough parting from her for the summer months, knowing he can’t protect her while she stays with her aunt. To have her there all the time while he’s stuck here, tucked away in the mountains and too far from the drylands to look after her would drive him mad. He can’t – no, he _won’t_ let this happen.

“I did it.”

Mid-tirade, their Headmaster pauses to stare at him.

Theta meets his gaze bravely and presses on. “I’m the one who stole your TARDIS. Melody had nothing to do with it.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Melody turn to gape at him but he ignores her. “In fact, she only followed me in to try to stop me but I didn’t listen. I wanted to visit Earth so I flew off with her still inside.” He clenches his jaw, straightening up to his full height. “It wasn’t Melody’s fault. So if you want to punish someone, I’m afraid it will have to be me.”

The Headmaster shakes his head, eyebrow arched in challenge. “You expect me to believe the boy who’s failing his flying lessons stole my TARDIS and made a successful trip to Earth and back?”

Shrugging loftily, Theta replies, “If Melody was flying, don’t you think we would have been back before you knew we were gone?”

The Headmaster’s gaze shifts to Melody, who is apparently too startled by this turn of events to do anything but blink at him in bewilderment. Theta nudges her and she finally draws in a breath, nodding once. “He has a point.”

After another moment of careful study, the Headmaster finally sighs. “Very well. Report to my office first thing in the morning, Theta Sigma, and we’ll discuss your punishment.” He holds out an expectant hand. “And in the meantime, I’ll be confiscating your little earth treasures.”

Wilting a bit, Theta hands over his new collection with a mumbled, “Yes, Sir.”

Laden down with shopping bags, their Headmaster orders, “Out, both of you.”

Eager to be out of his office and away from that knowing stare, Theta grabs Melody’s hand and yanks her with him across the room and out into the corridor. He shuts the door behind them and Melody takes the opportunity to slip from his grasp and walk soundlessly down the hallway and out into the afternoon sunshine. Theta follows hurriedly after her, leaving a trail of water in his wake. He shakes a bit of the excess from his dripping hair and trips down the stone steps onto the school grounds behind Melody.

Sprawled on the steps with a book in hand, Koschei is waiting for them. “So which is to be?” He asks without looking up. “The guillotine or the firing squad?”

Theta frowns, glancing away from Melody’s pensive face long enough to ask, “How did you knew where we were?”

“Are you kidding?” Koschei finally glances up, eyebrows raised. “It’s all over school that you two idiots stole the Headmaster’s TARDIS. Where’d you go? Without me, might I add.”

“It wasn’t exactly planned.” Theta rolls his eyes. “And we went to Earth.”

“You risked expulsion for that sandpit of a planet?” Koschei snorts. “I’m suddenly glad I missed it.”

Melody whirls around suddenly, startling them both and sprinkling them with fountain water in the process. “Oh shut up, both of you.” She focuses on Theta, her green eyes bright and her usually smirking mouth a grim, tense line. Theta backs up a step, swallowing. “Why did you do that? Why would you take the blame when you were the one trying to talk me out of it in the first place?”

“I don’t know,” he says, because telling her he couldn’t contemplate being where she is not would surely expose him entirely. “I just...didn’t want you to get expelled.”

She shakes her head, damp curls clinging to her flushed cheek. “I knew the risks, Theta.”

“I know.” He scratches his cheek and blurts, “I didn’t want to be here without you.”

Melody doesn’t move, her eyes fixed on him like his words have the power to save or condemn. “Why not?”

“Because you’re my friend and I…” He ducks his head, knowing that she’ll be able to see he’s hiding something if he looks her in the eye for a second longer. Instead, he prods at the ground with the toe of his shoe. “I don’t know. I just thought-”

“Oh for the love of Omega.” Koschei snaps his book shut, causing them both to flinch. He lifts his head, glaring at them in exasperation. “Can’t you see he’s been in love with you since you met? How much longer am I meant to endure these awkward pauses and nauseating glances before one of you does something about it?”

Not daring to look at Melody, Theta stares in horror at his traitorous friend. His mind screams at him to deny everything, call Koschei a liar, _anything_ to keep Melody from learning the truth. Anything to keep his feelings from ruining a friendship he cherishes above all else. He tries to open his mouth but absolutely nothing comes out.

It’s Melody who finally speaks. “Theta?” He flinches. “Is that true?”

He turns, apprehension like acid eating away at his chest, but the moment he sees her face, any half-formed words of protest evaporate on his tongue. Lank curls dripping down her back, her eyes shining, and her mouth trembling, Melody looks at him with barely disguised hope. Theta feels his hearts squeeze in his chest, letting himself imagine she might actually feel even half of what he feels when he looks at her. Caught in her stare, he can only nod helplessly.

“It is.”

Melody breathes in sharply, swaying in place.

Unlike the denial that wouldn’t come out, the truth is only too eager to make itself known. Taking a step toward her, Theta feels the confession slipping out of his mouth like the words have been trapped for years and waiting for the first opportunity to spill out. “You’re all I’ve been able to see since I was a scrawny, scared eight year old.”

“You’re still scrawny,” she whispers, eyes wide.

“Oi. rude.” He frowns, glancing away briefly to study his bicep in outrage. At Melody’s quiet laugh, he looks up again with a smile that trembles around the edges. “Still scared too.”

She shakes her head and her nose crinkles in that way he’s loved since they were kids. “On the contrary, sweetie. You’ve never been braver.”

Before he can say another word, Melody marches right up to him. She closes the remaining distance between them to take his face in her small, strong hands and yank his mouth down to hers. Both of his hearts stop beating and even his respiratory bypass couldn’t help him catch his breath. Her lips are warm and lush, moving so perfectly against his that not even his fondest imaginings could have done the reality justice. Theta flails for only a moment before his hands settle in her wet hair, cradling her to him with the quiet fear that any second he’ll wake up.

Distantly, he’s aware of Koschei making a noise of disgust and stomping off but it’s a minor detail compared to the way time completely stops around him – like he and Melody are cocooned inside a vacuum of space. Nothing exists outside of the two of them, soaking wet and wrapped around each other. Melody still tastes like candy floss and he smiles widely against her mouth, nose brushing hers softly.

She finally pulls away and it’s all he can do not to chase after her lips, blinking his eyes open as if waking from a dream. Hands still cupping his face, Melody presses her forehead to his and whispers, “About time, you idiot.”

“Wait, you knew?”

“Of course I knew.”

He gapes at her, fingers still tangled in her hair. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Melody shrugs. “I wasn’t sure _you_ knew yet. It was only polite to let you figure it out for yourself first.”

Scoffing fondly, Theta nuzzles his nose against her cheek. “Since when have you ever worried about being polite?”

She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, guiding his mouth back toward hers. “Shut up, Theta, or I won’t give you this.”

He blinks, taking a moment to register the intricate human pocket watch dangling on a chain between them. The pocket watch he’d picked up on Earth – the pocket watch the Headmaster had confiscated the moment they returned. And apparently, the very same pocket watch Melody had stolen back for him. Theta reaches for it, wrapping the chain around his palm and staring at the beautifully engraved case.

With a lump in his throat, he says, “Melody Pond, I could kiss you.”

“Well what’s stopping you?”

Her reply echoes between them and he lifts his head, smiling when he finds that familiar mischievous smirk curling her mouth. A mouth he knows more intimately now – a mouth he’d like to become as familiar with as his own. He leans in again, the watch gripped in one hand and Melody’s hip in the other as he murmurs, “Absolutely nothing.”

-

Dating Melody really isn’t all that different from being her friend. They still like playing pranks together, Theta still scolds her when she does something reckless, and she still delights in calling him an idiot. There are, of course, noticeable differences. They spend a lot less of their time in the library studying and more of it snogging for one thing. His grades are suffering but Theta has never been happier.

Usually when Melody sneaks into his room at night now, she isn’t all that interested in sleeping. He has no complaints about that either. In fact, when she sneaks into his room one night and entices him into climbing out the window with her, he’s rather disappointed in the disruption from their usual routine. Traipsing after her in the dark across the school grounds, he asks, “Tell me again why we’re not asleep right now?”

“First of all, we wouldn’t be sleeping and you know it.” Melody pats his cheek fondly when he blushes, winking. “And second of all, I told you – it’s a surprise. You told me you love surprises.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” he grumbles, tripping over a tree root and colliding with her back. Melody is much steadier on her feet than he is so she barely moves, leaning into him and letting him find his balance with his hands on her hips. “Surprises mean not knowing something. I hate not knowing. Surprises are rubbish.”

“You’ll like this one.” She turns in his arms, leaning up on her toes to press her mouth to his ear. Theta feels his insides turn to jelly, his breath catching when she grazes his earlobe with her teeth. “I promise.”

“A-alright then.” He clears his throat. “Lead the way.”

“Good boy,” she murmurs, and steps away abruptly.

She turns on her heel and saunters off, hips swaying. Theta stares dumbly after her for a moment before he can remember how to move his feet. As he stumbles behind her to catch up, he grumbles under his breath. “Wicked woman.”

Up ahead, Melody slows to a stop at the shore of the lake. During the day, students like to climb into rowing boats or dip their feet in the water but Theta can’t even begin to imagine what on Gallifrey they’re doing here in the middle of the night and why it’s supposed to be such a surprise. It’s not as if he’s never seen the school’s lake before.

He’s just about to voice his complaints when Melody startles the hell out of him by lifting her shirt over her head. She tosses it to the ground carelessly and he chokes when he realizes she hadn’t been wearing anything underneath. He stares helplessly at the lovely expanse of her bare back.

His tongue feels stuck to the roof of his mouth but he quickly finds command of it again when she starts to shimmy out of her trousers. “Melody,” he squeaks. “What are you _doing_?”

Normally he wouldn’t dare complain about her getting undressed in front of him but they’re outside where anyone could see her – except it’s nighttime and past curfew and all right, so no one but him is going to see her but they’re _outside_ and in his admittedly limited experience, undressing is usually an indoor pursuit.

Stepping delicately out of her knickers, Melody replies serenely, “Another human tradition I thought you might like to try. You know, in the name of research.” She peers at him over her shoulder, sultry-eyed and smirking. “It’s called skinny dipping.”

Theta swallows, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of her bare in the starlight. “I’ve not heard of it.”

“Really?” She tuts, abandoning her pile of discarded clothes to advance on him. He stays rooted in place, prey too entranced by his predator to try to escape. “Well let me enlighten you, sweetie.” She reaches for the buttons on his shirt and he holds his breath as she starts undoing them one by one. “It’s when you take off all your clothes and go for a swim.”

He lets her push his shirt off his shoulders, barely noticing when it drops to the ground. “Why?”

“Because…” Melody glances up at him through her lashes, undoing his trousers with deft hands. “It’s fun.”

His trousers drop to his ankles and he wobbles a bit as he steps out of them. “Are you sure you’re not making this up just to get my kit off in public?”

“I’m afraid not, sweetie.” She hooks her fingers into the waistband of his underwear and grins, shoving them down. “Though I do love the way you still blush as though I’ve never seen you naked before. Makes a girl feel awfully naughty.”

“As if you didn’t feel that way already,” he grumbles, shivering as the cool night air and Melody’s fingertips brush his bare skin. “It’s practically your modus operandi.”

She wraps her arms around his waist, leaning her bare chest into his and making him go red all over again. “Are you complaining?”

“Never,” he assures her, and dips his head to cover her smirking mouth with his own. They stand there on the shore, their mouths eager and their hands wandering until Theta is so dizzy on the taste and the feel of her that he forgets all about his previous misgivings over being naked outdoors.

And of course, that’s when Melody pushes him into the lake.

His arms flail as he falls and when he hits the water, it’s blessedly warm as it envelops him. He surfaces sputtering, shaking his hair out of his eyes and glaring in Melody’s general direction. Before he can blink away the water blurring his vision, he hears her laughter and the subsequent splash of her joining him.

The moment she’s close enough, Theta sinks beneath the surface and yanks on her leg, tugging her under with him. She slips out of his grasp easily, kicking him for good measure on her way back up. Theta comes up for air laughing and when she sends a wave of water at him with her cupped hands, he dives for her again. Melody squeals and for several minutes, the only sounds filling the empty school grounds are the splash of water and their shrieks of laughter.

Eventually, they float on their backs and study the night sky. The water laps softly around them and Theta pushes his wet hair out of his eyes, turning his head to stare at Melody. She has been beautiful to him since the moment he saw her, the little girl with bouncing curls and fierce determination in her eyes. She’s only grown more beautiful since then, a Time Lady so clever and kind and so much fun that sometimes her brilliance eclipses all else. Tonight is no different and he’s enraptured by the sight of her honey skin glistening with lake water and a luminescence she seems to carry with her wherever she goes.

Voice drowsy, she murmurs, “S’cold tonight.”

An ache in his chest, he turns away and says, “At least the water is warm.”

She hums her agreement and drifts closer, treading water as she makes her way toward him. As she moves closer, he can see the swell of her breasts visible just beneath the water and the way her eyes have darkened. He reaches for her and Melody presses herself against him, her mouth finding the space between his hearts. “Not as warm as you.”

She wraps her strong, slender legs around his waist and his breath stutters. Sometimes, it’s debilitating how much he wants her. Especially tonight, with the stars bright above them, a whole lake to themselves, and hours before dawn. Theta holds Melody close and sends up a silent _thank you_ to those marvelous humans for the advent of skinny-dipping.

-

Depending on the location, summers on Gallifrey are either a paradise or hell. Those in the Citadel in the upper valley have pleasantly warm days and cool nights but those like Theta, stuck in the outlands, are made to endure merciless heat during the waking hours and sticky, balmy heat during the night. There is no escaping the summertime unless one plans to spend every waking moment indoors. Theta would rather sweat to death than step foot inside the house.

He sits in the loft of the barn long after the suns have set, watching through the open window for the moment his guardians retire to bed for the night. When the lights finally go out, he knows it won’t be long before Melody scales the side of the barn and climbs through the window. He lights candles while he waits for her, unlatching the rest of the windows in hopes that any hint of a breeze might finds its way to them.

As he’d predicted, Melody doesn’t tarry long. She slips soundlessly through the window ten minutes after his guardians have gone to bed, dropping to the floor without even making the floor creak beneath her feet. She straightens and Theta grins at her, taking in her wild curls piled on top of her head to keep them away from her face. A few little wisps rest against the nape of her neck, damp from the heat. She wears a light summer dress and her feet are bare. She’s radiant.

“Hello,” she whispers, smiling softly. “Miss me?”

He shifts to make room for her on his cot. “Not at all,” he insists, grasping her around the waist the moment she’s close enough and tugging her onto the bed with him. She laughs quietly, allowing herself to be captured. “In fact, I haven’t thought of you once.”

She arches into him as his lips find her collarbone. “Yes, I can feel how much you haven’t been thinking of me.”

He blushes, even as his hands fumble for the hem of her dress. “Shut up,” he murmurs fondly, lifting it over her head and dropping it to the floor. He studies her by candlelight and starlight, at once admiring her beauty and vulnerability and just her Melody-ness while also searching for something far more sinister. She doesn’t show up with bruises as much as she used to but every time he spots a new one, he wants to wrap her in his arms and never let go.

Beneath him, Melody stretches out over his sheets and lets him stare. If she knows what he’s doing, she never says. “Make me,” she whispers, and her eyes glitter with challenge.

Satisfied she seems unharmed, Theta flicks his sweat damp hair out of his eyes and allows himself a smirk. “Maybe I will.”

Lifting a hand to cup his cheek, she scoffs, “Promises, promises.”

He peers down at her, admiring her now without the dread curling up in the pit of his stomach. Her skin glistens with sweat, a sensual sheen that reflects the candlelight like satin. Her hair spills across his pillow in a tangled halo, made all the more voluminous by the humidity in the air. Her cheeks are flushed, from him and the heat, and he can see freckles sprinkled across her nose from spending too much time outdoors beneath the suns. She’s as glorious as ever and he still can’t quite believe she wants him. But she does, and he won’t waste another second on doubt.

He ducks his head, finding her mouth with his own and sinking into the warmth of her. Melody is soft and pliant beneath him, her tongue sliding languidly against his as he shifts to press more of his bare skin to hers. He slips his hand over her ribcage and she sighs softly in pleasure as he cups her breast, nipping at his lip to let him know she wants more of the same.

Bumping his nose against hers, he pulls away from her mouth and plants a series of wet kisses along her throat and between her breasts. He can taste the salt on her skin and Melody arches into his searching mouth, a breathy demand on her lips. He pauses, his hearts unspeakably full. “Melody, I-”

Her eyes flutter open, a slow smile curling her mouth. “I know, idiot,” she whispers. “Of course I know.”

Theta loses himself in her, in the way their skin, tacky with sweat, sticks together as they move. His hair clings to his forehead and every time he tries to grip her hips, his fingers slip on her damp skin. But even the smothering heat of the Gallifreyan summer is nothing compared to Melody burning in his arms. She’s a separate sun, shining despite the darkness around them, pulling him into her orbit.

Afterward, they curl around each other and catch their breath, their bare skin cooling in the night air and the blankets pooled on the floor. The temperature makes such closeness nearly unbearable but the thought of separating never occurs to them. Settled in the crook of his arm, her head on his shoulder, Melody traces patterns over his chest.

She’s unusually quiet but he doesn’t pry, knowing from experience it will only make her more reluctant to confide in him. He hums to her, his lips feather-light against her forehead.

When he’s starting to think she’ll keep whatever is on her mind to herself, Melody finally speaks into the quiet. “Do you remember when Professor Borusa talked about alternate universes last year?”

He nods, frowning. “What about it?”

She hesitates and he presses a firm kiss to her hairline. “I’ve been having dreams – nightmares. Of a world where you’re alone.”

Theta tightens his grip on her, unease winding around his hearts. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” she confesses. “Not there.”

“Impossible. Wherever I am, you’ve got to be there somewhere.” At Melody’s silence, he pulls back just enough to peer down at her. She avoids his gaze, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and he realizes whatever these dreams are, they’re unsettling her more than she’ll ever admit out loud. “Hey, we’d find each other, eh? Maybe not as kids. Maybe we’d have to wait a bit but we’d find each other.”

Melody searches out his gaze, her eyes bright and solemn. “I’d wait an eternity to find you if I had to.”

“You wouldn’t have to.” Theta bends his head, brushing his lips down the bridge of her nose before seeking out her soft mouth. “We’re together in every universe. I know it.”

He can tell his certainty has soothed her fears but the possibility of a world without each other has unsettled them both. As though worried they might lose each other in the night, they sleep pressed together in spite of the heat, Theta with his hands in her hair and Melody with her mouth over one of his hearts, until dawn.

-

In the summer months, the fields of Koschei’s father are rarely ever quiet. When they’d been children, finally free from the oppressive Academy until the autumn, they’d frolicked through the red grass shouting and laughing with not a thought spared for propriety. Even as they’ve grown older, they’re hardly ever quiet for long – not with Theta’s tendency to ramble, Koschei’s love of complaining, and Melody’s lifelong pursuit of trouble.

These days, however, the fields are mostly silent. They still frequent their safe haven just as much as ever but with Koschei’s headaches worsening by the day, he spends most of his time sprawled in the grass with his hands over his eyes. In deference to his pain and his increasingly foul temper, Theta and Melody sit quietly beside him. Silence doesn’t come naturally to either of them but to Theta’s eternal gratitude, his Melody had been quick to offer a solution.

Technically, they haven’t started learning the practice of telepathy at the Academy but Melody has been studying it in her spare time. It’s the best way to communicate during class without having to speak out loud or even look at each other. She’s determined that they’ll master it before they return to school in the autumn. Theta is almost certain she just wants to torture him with dirty thoughts during physics class.

Their professors at the Academy haven’t ventured further into the subject of telepathy than simply teaching them to build mental shields. He supposes it makes sense that before they learn to read each other’s minds, they learn how to keep people out. He’s grateful for it now, with Melody prodding at his thoughts with a metaphorical stick.

_Melody, I shut that door for a reason._

_But what is it?_ Her curiosity spikes between their connection, as does her amusement. _Dirty dreams? Embarrassing fetishes? I can’t fulfill your deviant fantasies if you don’t share them with me, sweetie._

_Why do you assume it’s something to do with sex? Don’t you ever think about anything else?_

In retaliation, she sends him a flood of rather filthy images that makes him squeak aloud. Her laughter ripples across his mind and he huffs, amused despite himself. They’re getting better at this, their mental bond growing stronger with every day they practice. Before long, he’s sure he’ll be able to find her in a sea of thousands just by reaching out his mind for hers. The inside of Melody’s head is as beautiful and naughty and frustratingly wonderful as the outside of her – he’d know it anywhere.

 _Tell me what’s behind the door?_ Somehow, Melody manages to kiss him without actually touching him at all. The delightful shock of it startles him instantly into submission. _Please?_

He sighs. _Promise you won’t laugh?_

_Only with you, honey. Never at you._

Theta nudges open the door in his mind, letting her in. He feels her surprise through their connection, the curiosity and wonder when she finds nothing she’d expected to see. He hadn’t been hiding silly fantasies at all. Instead she sees them hand in hand, traveling the stars. She sees a little house on the edge of the forest, where it’s easy to look out and see the dawn set the trees aflame every morning. Melody cradling a babe in her arms, Theta looking on and beaming. Their future, or rather the one he imagines every time he thinks of it.

 _Oh, you beautiful idiot._ Even in his head, her voice wobbles just on the edge of tears. _Why would I ever laugh at that?_

_You mean you… you want it too?_

_If it’s with you, I want everything_. And just to make sure he believes her, she sends a wave of love for him and that future toward him, letting it wash over him like a tide of warm water. Theta sinks deeper into her mind, trying to envelope her every thought with his hopes and dreams and adoration until even her worst memories have been touched by him. Until she can’t even remember her bad days without also remembering she is so very loved.

Melody kisses him in response, again without even touching him. It feels real just the same, like she’s wrapped in his arms and sifting her fingers through his hair. For a moment, Theta is too drunk on her to think properly but once the overwhelming presence of her fades to a less dizzying level, he manages to gather a stray thought.

_How are you doing that?_

_A lady doesn’t kiss and tell, Theta. But I’m positively dizzy with the possibilities of this little bond._ He can feel her smirk through their connection as surely as if his eyes were open and focused on her face. _I can’t wait to try it out in bed._

Apparently even with her eyes shut, Melody can feel his blush through their bond. When she laughs, he huffs. _You’re incorrigible_.

_You love that about me._

_And everything else, unfortunately_. He pauses, a niggling thought worrying at the back of his mind. As much as he enjoys getting lost inside Melody’s thoughts, it’s difficult to ignore that if he opens his eyes Koschei is laying beside them in pain.

Melody senses the direction of his thoughts. _Shall we check on him?_

 _All right_ , he agrees. _But carefully_.

He hates this part, feeling Melody’s mind fade from his. It feels like losing her. The moment their connection fades, he opens his eyes to assure himself she hasn’t actually gone anywhere. His gaze lands on her just in time to see her lashes flutter. Their eyes meet across the space between them and they grin at each other. As much as he enjoys being inside her mind, he misses looking at her. Melody has such an expressive face. She displays her hearts for him to see with every smile, every wink, every arch of her brow.

“We’re getting better,” she says, and the sound of her voice soothes the ache he always feels after they’re through practicing their telepathy. “We’ll be old hat at it by the time Professor Borusa starts lessons next year. Won’t that be delicious?”

Theta shakes his head, fringe falling into his eyes. “Why do I feel like you’ve got some devious plan in mind?”

Melody wrinkles her nose at him. “Probably because you were just _in_ my mind, sweetie.”

Before he can reply, Koschei mutters from beside them, “Oh shut it, both of you. No flirting while I’m in pain.”

Theta turns at once to look at him, frowning when he finds his friend in much the same condition as before. Curled up in the grass with his hands pressed to his aching head, Koschei squeezes his eyes shut and bites his lip against a whimper. He looks completely miserable, so much so that even Melody must be feeling uncharacteristic fondness for him. She reaches out a hand and strokes her fingertips across Koschei’s brow and along his temple. He leans into her touch, which Theta can only assume means he must be dying.

Koschei stares up at Melody, his eyes glazed over. “Why can’t you hear it? Why can’t anyone else hear it?”

She doesn’t ask what he’s referring to but she doesn’t need to. The drums. Ever since they were children, Koschei hasn’t stopped talking of them. Melody shifts closer to him, her eyes troubled. “I don’t know,” she whispers, and glances up. She seeks out Theta and once their gazes lock, he knows what she wants even without their mental connection.

He nods warily, unsure but trusting her.

Melody turns her attention back to Koschei and asks, “Will you let me have a listen?”

Theta isn’t sure Koschei really understands what she’s asking, since he seems half-delirious with pain, but he nods once and Melody leans in. She presses her forehead to Koschei’s, the way she used to do with Theta before their connection was strong enough that they didn’t need to touch anymore. Her eyes close and Koschei stiffens beneath her, jerking violently as if he can feel her sudden presence in his mind.

Theta watches, biting his lip worriedly. It’s only a few seconds before they break apart again, Melody gasping and wide-eyed. “What?” He demands, watching her stare at Koschei. “What is it?”

“I can hear it,” she whispers, turning her startled gaze on Theta. “I can hear the drumming.” She lifts a hand to her temple, grimacing. “No wonder his head is always pounding.”

Koschei stares at her, pale and trembling. “You – you can really hear it too? I’m not going mad?”

“No,” Melody pauses, smiling. “Well, not completely anyway.”

Gaping between them, Theta asks, “All right, so he isn’t totally bonkers. What can we do about it?”

“I think I can stop it.” Melody glances hesitantly at Koschei. “It might not work and I’ll have to go inside your mind again but it’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

Apparently too relieved that he isn’t a complete nutter, Koschei snaps, “Well what are you waiting for? _Do it_.”

With his permission, Melody bends down again and touches her forehead to Koschei’s. She holds his head tightly in her hands, murmuring to him under her breath. “Shh, it’s all right. I won’t look in there,” she whispers, a reply to some silent protest. “I promise.”

Helpless to do anything else, Theta watches. The meadow is eerily still around them, not a rustle of grass or a whisper of wind to be heard. There is only Melody’s brow knit with pain as she shares in the agony Koschei feels. Theta turns his gaze away, unable to bear the sight of her in any discomfort at all.

Koschei doesn’t seem to be faring any better, his fingers curled white-knuckled in the grass and his chest heaving unnaturally. Perspiration breaks out across his brow and his face contorts into a twisted grimace of pain. It seems an eternity before his breathing begins to slow and that tortured look on his face fades into something almost peaceful.

At last, Melody sits back on her heels and her eyes flutter open. She doesn’t say a word, only watches as Koschei opens his eyes and stares up at her wonderingly, some of the color returned to his cheeks as he asks, “What the hell did you do?”

Melody ignores him, her eyes narrowed. “Can you still hear the drums?”

Koschei pauses, looking in bewilderment to Theta. “They’re gone.” He glances back at Melody as though he’s never seen her before. “You did it.”

Beaming, Melody sits back in the grass and begins to pluck a few blades of grass from the soil. As she twists the grass into a crude bracelet, she explains, “I used a neural block. I learned about them when I was reading up on telepathy. If it holds, you’ll never hear the drums again.”

Koschei purses his lips and sits up slowly, as though any sudden movement might make the wall in his mind crumble. “But…where did the drumming come from in the first place?”

Melody shrugs. “When did it start?”

Frowning, he says, “I’ve always heard it. Ever since… my initiation.”

“The Untempered Schism,” Theta breathes, his eyes going wide. “I’ve always heard some go mad looking into the time vortex.” He swallows, glancing at Koschei. “That could have been you, mate.”

With a smug grin, Melody says, “You’re welcome.”

She grabs Theta’s hand and he sighs patiently, letting her tie her grass bracelet around his wrist. Koschei watches them silently, his eyes unusually bereft of his usual disgust. For the first time since Theta can remember, he doesn’t look tired or in pain or even grumpy. He just looks grateful. It’s starting to weird him out.

Apparently Melody doesn’t know what to do with gratitude from Koschei either because the moment she looks up and finds him staring at her, she recoils. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Koschei blinks, glancing away. “I’m not looking at you. I’m…marveling that you can manage to think so much like a real Time Lord despite your unfortunate parentage.”

Theta drops his head into his hands, despairing of him.

Melody smiles through her teeth, eyes narrowed. “Ah, so it wasn’t the drums. You’re just a tit.”

Lifting his chin and looking down his nose at her, Koschei replies, “And you’re still just a half-blood mongrel.”

She smirks, arching an eyebrow. “Well this half-blood mongrel figured out how to save your sanity while you were curled up in the fetal position like a useless _human_. So much for the cleverness of the mighty pure blooded Time Lord.”

As they bicker, snarling at each other and throwing insults, Theta sighs to himself and flops back into the grass to listen. As their voices wash over him, a smile twitches at his mouth. The field certainly isn’t quiet any longer. He’s already starting to miss it.


	3. the time war: old enough to know i'll end up dying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She shakes her head, unable to believe her fiercely loyal Theta who is usually so happy to throw himself into harm’s way with her is actually saying these things. But the longer she stares into his wide eyes, the more she sees that not only is he saying he wants to run but he actually means it. She wrenches out of his grip. “I can’t just abandon Gallifrey. You can’t ask me to do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Fickle Game by Amber Run. 
> 
> In which there is a war, a question, and an answer.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161648709@N02/45103807344/in/dateposted-public/)

  _We will go together, over the waters of time. No one else will travel through the shadows with me, only you, evergreen, ever sun, ever moon._

\- **sonnet lxxxi, Pablo Neruda**

* * *

 Aunt Kovarian is the one to tell her the news. There’s to be a war. Rumors have been swirling for months but Melody has been doing her best to ignore them, wrapping herself in thoughts of leaving Gallifrey with Theta now that their time at the Academy is over. She’ll finally be able to escape her aunt and start building that future she’d seen in Theta’s mind years ago. Most days it’s all she can think about.

 

Except today.

 

As she makes her way through the long grass of the fields where she still goes to meet with Theta and Koschei, the only thing on her mind is the look on Aunt Kovarian’s face this morning. The unsettling peace in her eyes as she’d spoken of the war to come, her glittering smile as she’d rasped _I’m very nearly rid of you, useless girl._ The cryptic words had troubled her and Melody had turned away with unnamed fear curdling in her stomach like something rotten.

 

Theta is waiting for her in the glade and the moment he sees her, he moves toward her with his arms already open. She falls into them, burying her face in his neck and feeling tears sting her eyes as the warmth of his arms encompasses her. He presses his lips to the top of her head, his voice slightly muffled by her curls when he asks, “I assume you’ve heard then?”

 

She nods, still gripping him tightly. “So it’s true? We’ve declared war on the Daleks?”

 

“We’ve declared war on everything.”

 

At the sound of Koschei’s voice behind her, Melody steps out of Theta’s arms and turns to face him. At her side, Theta reaches for her hand and grips it tight. She keeps her gaze focused on Koschei, knowing that if anyone has any information it will be him. Ever since they left the Academy, he’s been working with his father for the government. At the moment he doesn’t have much clout but she knows by now that those who are silent and ignored learn more than most.

 

“What do you know?”

 

“Not much,” he says, shoving a hand through his dark hair. “Only that it’s happening. Remember that prophecy the Sisterhood of Karn is always crowing about?”

 

Melody nods, her stomach filling with dread. “The destruction of Gallifrey…”

 

Koschei nods once, sharply, and his mouth settles into a grim line. “This is it.”

 

She breathes in, feeling Theta’s fingers tighten around her own. “What do we do?”

 

Koschei shrugs but his tense shoulders belie the careless movement. “Run? Pick a side and fight?”

 

Studying him for a long moment, she surmises, “You’re staying.”

 

He glances away and she wonders if he ever resents her for knowing his mind so easily after being inside of it. “Seems the thing to do.”

 

“Yes,” she murmurs, eyes softening. Sometimes Theta’s idiot friend still manages to surprise her. Before now, she’d have assumed Koschei would be one of the first to find transport off-planet before the fighting began. “It does.”

 

Beside her, Theta tenses. “Melody? You’re not seriously thinking of fighting, are you?”

 

She turns to him, frowning as his grip slackens and his hand slips from hers. “And you’re not?”

 

He shakes his head. “I’m not saying – this isn’t-” He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. Fringe falling over his forehead, he peers at her from between his fingers with those eyes she’s loved since the first moment she saw him. “I don’t like this. War won’t solve anything. It never does.”

 

“I didn’t make the decision to start one, honey.” She reaches for him, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “But we’re about to whether we like it or not.”

 

He stares at her helplessly. “And you want to what, exactly? Stay here and fight against the _Daleks_?”

 

She drops her hand from his arm. “No, I want to stay here and defend our home.”

 

“Against a lost cause,” he snaps, and she tenses. Behind them, Koschei hovers uncertainly. “Melody, what about all the things we wanted after the Academy? What about our future?”

 

“Our future is exactly what I’m thinking of, Theta.” She shakes her head, eyes stinging. “We could leave now and travel, yes. But that house you pictured? Those children? How will we have any of that if we don’t fight to keep our home safe?”

 

“Melody,” he breathes, gazing at her imploringly. “It’s the _Daleks_. They’re killing machines. This isn’t some childhood prank on the Headmaster or jumping off the bloody clock tower. We can’t win this.”

 

“And what do you suggest we do instead? Run away?”

 

“Yes,” he snaps. “To Earth, Akhaten, Poosh, I don’t care. Anywhere, everywhere.” He reaches for her, his fingers wrapping desperately around her wrist. “We can still have all those things we wanted – just not here.”

 

She shakes her head, unable to believe her fiercely loyal Theta who is usually so happy to throw himself into harm’s way with her is actually saying these things. But the longer she stares into his wide eyes, the more she sees that not only is he saying he wants to run but he actually means it. She wrenches out of his grip. “I can’t just abandon Gallifrey. You can’t ask me to do that.”

 

“But you can ask me to stay here and watching everything burn?” He works his jaw in silence for a long moment, his eyes wet and anguished. “Stay and watch you fall?”

 

Mouth trembling, Melody purses her lips together and swallows hard. What she’s asking of Theta is no better than what he’s asking of her. He abhors violence. Staying here and witnessing so much death and devastation would destroy him. Melody won’t be a part of anything that makes him less than the beautiful, passionate idiot standing before her now. She won’t ask him to do something that goes against his very nature. She simply couldn’t live with herself. But Melody has never run from a fight and she isn’t about to start now.

 

“Go without me.”

 

Theta lifts his head, gaping at her. “What?”

 

She meets his gaze, unflinching. “Go without me, Theta.” She inches forward but he stumbles back a step, shaking his head. “Steal a TARDIS, escape to Earth and wait for me. When it’s safe, I’ll come fetch you.”

 

“You’re not serious?” He studies her, trembling but unyielding before him, and his eyes grow hard and cold. “Have you gone completely mad? You really believe I’m going to run away and leave you behind? Is that the sort of man you think I am?”

 

She scowls, hands balling into fists. “I’m not trying to insult you, Theta. I’m trying to keep you _safe_!”

 

“And what, precisely, do you think _I’m_ trying to do?” He growls under his breath and Melody watches as he paces away from her, tugging at his hair. “Bloody infuriating, ridiculous, stubborn-”

 

Melody arches an eyebrow. “Careful, sweetie.”

 

His shoulders slouch and he drops his hand from his hair. When he turns to face her, his expression has softened into something so achingly fond that Melody feels her hearts swell in her chest – fuller by the minute just from the look in his eyes. He moves toward her slowly and she stands still, waiting for him to reach her. By the time he does, her chest feels too tight to breathe. Theta takes her hand, lowering his gaze to study her fingers.

 

“Melody Pond,” he breathes, and she’ll never quite understand how he manages to utter her name like that. Like he’s telling her everything he feels for her simply by saying it. “I’ve followed you everywhere since the day we met. I decided quite a while ago that I plan to keep following you for the rest of my lives.”

 

She swallows thickly, her eyes beginning to prickle. “Even if you’re following me into war?”

 

Theta bends his head, his lips brushing her knuckles reverently. Peering at her through the fringe falling into his eyes, he promises, “Yes. Even then.” She blinks and feels a tear drip down her cheek but she doesn’t dare move to wipe it away. Theta does it for her, lifting his hand to cup her face and using his thumb to wipe the moisture from her cheek. “You’re my home, not this planet. So yeah, I’ll stay. But not to defend Gallifrey.” He smiles, tucking a curl behind her ear. “To defend you – to my last breath in this body and all the ones after.”

 

_Oh you idiot_. She sends the loving epithet toward him seconds before she stretches up on her toes and crashes her mouth against his own. Theta stumbles for a moment, arms wind-milling before they eventually find their way to her waist. He wraps her up tight in his embrace and ducks his head, planting kisses across her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids, the corner of her mouth and making his way down her throat while she laughs out loud.

 

“Will I ever not be subjected to this sort of nauseating display?”

 

Still clinging to each other, Melody and Theta grin and mutter together, “Shut up, Koschei.”

 

He snorts. “Seriously, what was that? Your wedding vows?”

 

Theta blushes and Melody kisses his pink cheek. “Better not be. He hasn’t even asked me yet.”

 

Scratching his cheek, Theta stutters, “Well it isn’t as if – I mean, if I did – you’d say yes, wouldn’t you?”

 

She smirks. “Are you asking?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Adorably, his eyes widen. “Wait, did you think I was asking you to marry me or asking if you’d say yes?”

 

Melody pecks his cheek again. “Yes.”

 

He sighs and the sound is so full of fond exasperation that her hearts feel full all over again. “Just to be clear, Melody Pond, I wasn’t asking.” Theta taps her on the nose, grinning. “Yet.”

 

-

 

There isn’t much to pack away in Theta’s small room above the barn and even less of it worth taking with him to the front lines. Melody stands in the middle of the bare room, cluttered mostly with spare bits of human tech, and wraps her arms around her middle. “This isn’t quite how I’d imagined us packing up all your things.”

 

He moves to stand behind her, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her neck as he hums in agreement. “I always thought once we left the Academy, I’d be free of my guardians and you’d finally be rid of that horrible aunt of yours.”

 

“I am, I suppose. I’ve just swapped her for something far more dangerous.” She presses her back into his lean chest and lets out a sigh. “Do you think they’ll let us share a tent in the trenches?”

 

Theta laughs quietly. “That’s what you’re worried about? Sharing a tent?” He sighs and his breath is warm against her neck. “Even if they don’t allow it, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble sneaking into mine anyway.”

 

Melody smiles, turning her head to let him brush his lips against the corner of her mouth. “It’s lovely to be known.”

 

He grins in reply. “Come along, Pond. Let’s leg it.”

 

As he releases her waist and turns to grab the only bag he’s taking with him, the barn door downstairs bursts open. Melody tenses, reaching for Theta once more as thunderous footsteps rattle the creaking loft steps. Within seconds, uniformed Chancellory guards, all of them armed, surround them. Melody tries to herd Theta behind her but he won’t budge, standing solidly at her side as they look down the barrel of a staser pistol.

 

“What the hell is this?” He asks, eyeing their weapons with contempt. Far less subtle than he thinks he is, he tries to inch his way in front of her and Melody elbows him sharply for his trouble. “Is this how our government is collecting its soldiers now?”

 

“No, but it is how we collect our criminals.”

 

Melody looks up, feeling her blood turn to ice in her veins at the sound of that voice here – In Theta’s loft, where she always ran away to feel safe. She must tense noticeably because Theta stops glaring at the guards long enough to glance at her, concern in his eyes. She doesn’t look at him, can’t possibly tear her gaze away from the woman slithering her way to the front of the group. She isn’t dressed in her usual black robes today but instead the colors of Gallifrey, red and gold that looks wrong against her skin – far too vibrant for a woman so cruel.

 

“Aunt Kovarian?” She holds herself the way she always does around her aunt, stiff and ready for whatever punishment may come. Beside her, she feels Theta tremble but it isn’t fear emanating from him in palpable waves – It’s fury. Melody fumbles between them, her fingers encircling his wrist and her thumb stroking his double pulse soothingly. “What are you doing here?”

 

She smiles. “Why, I’m here to arrest you, of course.”

 

“Arrest her?” Theta finally steps around her, pushing her forcibly behind him. “On what grounds?”

 

Melody shakes her head, forcing her tongue to form words. “You don’t have the power to-” She pauses, taking in the guards surrounding her and Theta, and the government official standing on Kovarian’s left. She can tell by the seal on his robes that he’s a general of some kind, far outranking Kovarian. “I don’t understand.”

 

“Of course you don’t, poor thing.” Kovarian coos at her, the triumphant gleam in her eyes more unsettling than even her most vicious glare. “You truly believed all these years that I actually wanted to take in some pathetic orphan girl? You’ve been nothing but trouble your whole miserable life.”

 

Theta stiffens and Melody presses her hand between his shoulder blades, stepping neatly around him to stand at his side once more. She lifts her chin, glaring at Kovarian. “So why bother with me then?”

 

“You were a job, my dear.” Kovarian tilts her head with a smirk, apparently relishing the chance to finally reveal her secrets. “As an agent of the Celestial Intervention Agency, I was charged with going undercover to keep an eye on our greatest threat – a hybrid child. Surely you’ve heard the stories.”

 

Melody stares at her, a hazy childhood memory surfacing – sitting in the field listening to Koschei tell the legend of the hybrid. She can clearly recall the warmth of Theta pressed against her side and the low murmur of Koschei’s voice, how bright the stars had been that night. Less easy to remember is the story itself but the legend is well known among their people, told with the same touch of both fear and skepticism humans use when speaking of the apocalypse. Never once had it occurred to her that the stories might be about her – half human and half Time Lord. Half of her mother and half of her father. A hybrid.

 

Kovarian must see the recognition in her eyes because she smiles and says, “We’ve always been aware of you, Melody Pond. Since the moment your parents managed to create such an abomination.” Theta growls and Melody digs her fingertips into his arm, silently urging him to keep quiet just a little longer. “And now, on the eve of war, it’s time to make sure you don’t ruin us all.”

 

She shakes her head, glaring at the guards inching forward. “I am _not_ going to destroy Gallifrey. I’m trying to help. Theta and I have enlisted, for Rassilon’s sake. You can’t just lock me away when I haven’t done anything.”

 

“I’m afraid we can, Ms. Pond,” the General beside Kovarian finally speaks up, eyeing her with pity that makes her fists clench. “We shall. At least until the war is over and we can be sure you will not influence its outcome.”

 

“Like hell you will.”

 

Melody sighs but allows Theta to step forward, knowing that keeping him quiet this long had been a feat in itself. She watches him walk right up to the General, standing nearly toe-to-toe with the man and deliberately ignoring Kovarian all the while. Admiring the confident swagger of his lean form, the way even his forelock seems to quiver with rage, she unclenches her fists and decides to let him say his piece. Despite the gravity of the situation, he really is ever so attractive when he gets like this. How’s a girl to resist?

 

“This is insane,” Theta snaps. “Worse, it’s misinformed. Did any of you actually bother to read the prophecy or did you just listen to your addled grandfather’s stories? The Hybrid could be capable of Gallifrey’s destruction, yes. But it also says the Hybrid could be this planet’s salvation. Who are you to decide which it will be?”

 

Despite his complete disregard for her so far, Kovarian scoffs. “Do you really think we know nothing of her school antics? She’s been a disobedient, corruptive little thief her entire life.”

 

Theta glowers at her, his jaw working in silence and his nostrils flaring. He looks as though he’s biting back several combative remarks while he searches for the one least likely to get him killed. After a moment, his angry features smooth out and he says, “All right. You want to lock her away, be my guest.” At the General’s puzzled glance, he shrugs. “If you know her history as well as you say then you’ll know nothing can hold her. Melody Pond can break out of any prison you put her in and what happens then? Once you’ve made her your enemy?” He arches an eyebrow, his voice full of derision as he asks, “Ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy, you lot?”

 

Melody hides a smile as the guards shift uncomfortably and the General exchanges a quick, uneasy glance with Kovarian. She feels like a teenager again, standing in the Headmaster’s office and watching the boy she loves take the fall for one of her ridiculous schemes. She’d thought on that day that she couldn’t possibly love him more but she’s learned with every day since how wrong she’d been.

 

“You want to keep someone like her on your side so I suggest you walk away now.” He holds up a hand and Melody feels her hearts thrill at the sight of him – so calm and threatening, like the sky before a storm. “And let me just say before you make the most important decision of your life that if you take her now, if you touch her, if you even contemplate harming her in any way then I will make sure you _long_ for the destruction you’re so certain she’ll bring.”

 

The guards look rattled, their weapons slightly lowered, and even the General looks pale but Kovarian gathers her tattered resolve and sneers. “You’re a mere boy. Why should we be afraid of you?”

 

Theta glances over his shoulder at Melody, his face softening the moment their eyes meet. She swallows the lump in her throat and smiles at him, her beautiful idiot willing to make himself an enemy of the entire government if it means keeping her out of prison. “Because a man in love can do a hell of a lot more damage than your best soldier.” He clenches his jaw, turning to look the General in the eye once more. “So go on. Try me.”

 

Four heartsbeats of tense silence follows, everyone waiting with bated breath as Theta and the General stare each other down. Melody breathes in slowly, mentally preparing herself not to put up a fight when they take her. If she struggles, Theta will surely get hurt. She’ll go peacefully anywhere they want to take her, so long as they leave him alone.

 

“The young man is right.”

 

She blinks, lifting her eyes to stare in bewilderment at the General. The guards have lowered their weapons entirely now and Kovarian looks furious, gaping at the General in silent outrage. “Sir, what are you doing?”

 

“The prophecy does state that the Hybrid will be either the destroyer or savior of Gallifrey.” He sighs, glancing at Melody. “It will not do to make such a decision for her. We cannot afford more enemies in this war.”

 

Kovarian glares. “And if she chooses incorrectly?”

 

“Then she will condemn her friend here to a permanent death at our hands.” He eyes Melody meaningfully, waiting until she nods in understanding before he looks away. His attention returns instantly to Theta, who still hasn’t moved. “And since the young man seems so invested in Melody Pond’s wellbeing, he will be the one to supervise her missions until she proves her loyalty beyond a doubt.”

 

“I accept.” Finally allowing himself to fall back, Theta reaches for Melody’s hand without looking and she takes it, pulling him away from the General before he does something stupid again. “Gladly.”

 

“Very well then…” The General frowns. “What do they call you?”

 

“Theta Sigma.”

 

“Theta,” the General says solemnly. At his side, Kovarian looks on in despair. “Our lives are in your hands.”

 

-

 

They materialize in a heap on the ground in the middle of camp, their limbs so tangled together Melody can hardly tell where she ends and Theta begins. She hears him groan and barely resists the urge to do the same, glaring at the vortex manipulator sparking ominously on her wrist. The General hadn’t trusted her with a TARDIS so for now she’s stuck with this offensive alternative that malfunctions after every other trip through time. She’s starting to get used to the way such cheap time travel turns her stomach inside out but Theta looks a little green, pressing his forehead into the ground with a whimper.

 

She can’t tell if he looks so sick because of the manipulator or because of where they’ve just been. Likely a combination of both. Remembering the reason they’re both singed and smell of fire and death, Melody growls through her teeth. Carefully extricating herself from Theta, she climbs unsteadily to her feet and waits barely a moment to get her bearings.

 

“Wait here, sweetie,” she says, narrowed eyes already trained on a tent in the distance. “I’ve got to give the General my report.”

 

He nods weakly and mumbles, “No bloodshed.”

 

“No promises,” she retorts, clenching her jaw.

 

On General Kenossium’s orders, Melody and Theta had traveled to Skaro with the objective to avert the creation of the Daleks. Barring that, they’d been ordered to find a flaw or weakness to exploit their enemy. While Melody and Theta hadn’t quite managed to prevent the inception of the Daleks, they _had_ succeeded in setting the entire species back a few thousand years.

 

They’d escaped Skaro worse for wear but victorious, only to discover that while they were on their mission, the Daleks had tried to invade the Matrix. In an effort to stop them, President Romana had trapped them in a time loop that ensured they’d never start a war at all. The moment she’d heard the news, Melody felt her knees give out. Since the timelines had changed and the Daleks had never started the war to begin with, her mission with Theta would look like nothing but an unprovoked attack against them. The Daleks had no longer started the Time War – the Time Lords did.

 

Still fuming and sick to her stomach, Melody shoves past the guards posted outside General Kenossium’s tent and marches inside. Finding him calmly studying his maps at a table, she feels her temper flare. “You gave me outdated information.”

 

He barely looks up, squinting at the southern territories. “I gave you the best information I had available to me at the time.”

 

Melody snarls. “And it was outdated by _hours_. Romana had already-”

 

“Yes,” he sighs, finally looking up. “I know that now Ms. Pond but I didn’t then.”

 

She glares at him, a furious lump caught in her throat. “We just ensured the hatred of the entire Dalek race. We’re the reason for this whole sodding mess-”

 

Kenossium slams a palm against his maps and Melody stops short, still glowering. “You’d do well to remember your place. You are on probation and I still have the power to throw you in a cell if I even suspect you’re stepping out of line.”

 

Fuming, she balls her hands into fists at her sides. “I’m not-”

 

“Your job is to follow orders, which you did. Nothing else is of your concern.” General Kenossium laces his hands together over his maps and looks so infuriatingly calm that Melody wants to scream. “Here is a new order for you to follow: get some rest, find your manners, and come back in the morning for instructions on your next mission.”

 

“I won’t-”

 

“That’s all, Ms. Pond.” Kenossium eyes her warningly. “You’re dismissed.”

 

Melody clenches her teeth against a growl, knowing that he could most certainly toss her into some dark, impenetrable dungeon for the duration of the war if it suits him. With a sharp nod, she turns on her heel and storms out. For a moment, her indignation clouds all else but as she stalks away, she spots Theta still sitting on the ground in the same spot where they’d landed on arrival. At the sight of his slumped shoulders and pale face, she slows her furious steps and sighs.

 

It takes a few laborious seconds to swallow down her anger, wrestling it into the dark corners of her hearts she’d rather Theta didn’t see. Once she’s sure her rage isn’t visible to the eye any longer, she forces herself to move again. She approaches Theta cautiously, dropping to sit beside him in the dirt. He doesn’t look at her, staring blankly at the ground between his knees.

 

Letting the silence fester around them, giving Theta time to gather himself, she unstraps her still sputtering manipulator and tosses it away. It lands a few feet from them, the sparks it emits glowing in the gathering dark like Earth’s fireflies. “I’m sorry,” she finally whispers.

 

Theta finally lifts his head, frowning at her. “It isn’t your fault.”

 

She shakes her head. “If I had listened to you and run-”

 

“Then someone else would have done what we did today,” he interrupts gently. “There was no stopping it.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

Or maybe whoever would have gone in their place would have had less success foiling the Daleks. Maybe then Romana’s efforts wouldn’t have been in vain. Melody allows herself to think these things but she doesn’t give voice to any of it, knowing that speaking them out loud won’t offer her any comfort and will only upset Theta.

 

“Besides,” he continues, pressing the warmth of his arm into her side. “If we’d really left, you would have hated yourself for it. And hated me for talking you into it.” He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Eventually I’d have hated me too.”

 

She glances at him, drawn from her dark musings of what-ifs. “What?”

 

“You were right to stay,” he admits, and the admiration in his eyes steals her breath. “I was just scared. This is our home, Melody. If we can protect it then I want to.”

 

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Melody reaches for his hand. “So...we keep fighting? Are you sure?”

 

“Am I sure I want to save the universe with you?” Theta grins at her, that boyish smile she so rarely sees these days. “Always.”

 

-

 

Despite the tremendous setback of infuriating the Daleks, Melody and Theta are a formidable team when they work together and have the accurate intel to carry out their missions. Between Melody’s love of plotting and Theta’s innate survival instincts, they make more strides toward victory than any other soldiers in the resurrected Rassilon’s army.

 

Together, they weaken the Daleks with every passing day. They trick Davros into using the Hand of Omega to detonate Skaro’s second sun. They travel to Veestrax, a planet on the front line of the Dalek assault, and blow it up. Though she relies heavily on Theta during these missions, Melody is careful to keep her dear pacifist from getting his hands dirty. She feels as protective of him now as she had when they were children, only now she isn’t keeping Theta from bullies and Headmasters and terrible guardians. Now she makes sure he never has to use the weapon he keeps on his person. Instead he uses that ridiculous mouth to distract whoever they’re trying to escape from. If someone must be shot, she makes sure she is the one to do it. She makes sure that despite his proficiency for assembling the bombs they use, Theta never actually detonates any of them.

 

Melody _knows_ him – knows him as surely as she knows herself – and she knows Theta couldn’t endure the sort of violence that comes so easily to her. His hearts couldn’t carry the burden of knowing he had taken the life of another. As the one who loves him most, she makes damn certain Theta will get through this war without blood on his hands.

 

Some days, that’s an easier job than others.

 

Amid enemy fire, Melody grabs Theta by the neck of his tunic and shoves him behind her makeshift barricade. He stumbles but he’s safely out of the way, leaving her to focus on firing on the approaching Daleks. Lifting his head from the ground, Theta glowers at her. “Oi, what was that for?”

 

“Quiet honey, I’m trying to concentrate.” Melody squints, aiming for the eyestalk.

 

“And I’m trying to help!” He scrambles to his feet, his arm raised and his weapon aimed. As he staggers to Melody’s side, a beam of Dalek gunfire zips right past his ear – barely missing him.

 

Melody growls at him, her hand shaking around her gun. “Get behind the barricade, Theta.”

 

He eyes her loftily, entirely too smug considering their surroundings. “Make me.”

 

An explosion rocks the ground beneath their feet and the heat of it is so close and searing against her skin Melody acts on instinct, tackling Theta into the dirt and shielding him with her body. He grunts in protest, the noise muffled by her hair and the sound of gunfire. Despite his squirming efforts to escape her, Melody holds him in place, her hearts pounding in her chest and her ears ringing. As the dust settles over them, she barely breathes as she waits. After a moment that seems endless, she hears Koschei’s familiar voice call out the all clear.

 

Satisfied, she rolls away from Theta and climbs back to her feet. Standing over him with a glare that he returns with surprising ferociousness, she hisses, “Stay behind the barricade.”

 

Leaving him sitting in the dirt, she reaches for the blaster strapped to her thigh and inches out from behind the barrier to take stock of the landscape – now riddled with craters made by the explosives. Bodies litter the ground, clad in scarlet uniforms made all the more red by the blood seeping into the sand. She swallows hard and looks away, forcing her gaze to the battle rather than the casualties. Her hearts lift momentarily when she spots Koschei in the distance, his uniform torn and his head bleeding but a Dalek eyestalk slung over his shoulder like a hunting prize.

 

When he sees her looking, he arches an eyebrow and mouths across the distance: _Five_.

 

Melody rolls her eyes and shouts her own kill number. “Six!”

 

Koschei scowls and uses the eyestalk to make a crude gesture before a blast from a Dalek beam distributor nearly takes off his head. He ducks and rolls, leaping to his feet again already shooting. Melody moves to join him but the sound of familiar footsteps behind her gives her pause. She clenches her jaw, shutting her eyes and begging imaginary gods for patience.

 

“I know what you’re doing.”

 

She bites her tongue, refusing to turn around and look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Stay here.” Without checking to make sure he’s done as she asked, Melody charges up her blaster and slips back into the fray. She won’t stand on the sidelines and have a row with Theta in the middle of battle, surrounded by Daleks and the corpses of men and women she’d shared a campfire with last night.

 

Ducking and weaving through the melee, she outmaneuvers every blast of enemy fire and comes up shooting every time. She pulls out the knife tucked into her boot and throws it, embedding the blade square in the middle of a Dalek eyestalk. As she moves to retrieve it, she aims her blaster over her shoulder and hits another that had been terrorizing a cowering soldier behind her. “Eight!”

 

Somewhere nearby, she hears Koschei swear.

 

She smiles grimly but the expressions drops again the moment she feels a warm presence at her back. Even without looking she’d know him anywhere. “You’re trying to protect me,” he says, as though there had been no pause in their disagreement. “Like I’m completely incapable of looking after myself.”

 

Melody growls under her breath, ushering him behind her. “I didn’t say that.”

 

“You imply it every time we go into battle and you try to hide me behind the barricade-” He shoots over her shoulder and misses, then gestures irritably to the way she’s shielding him with her body. “Or _yourself._ Like I’m a bloody child.”

 

“I’m not-” She aims her blaster and makes quick work dispatching of the Dalek he’d missed. “Of course I’m trying to protect you, Theta. But not because I think you can’t take care of yourself. You’re a pacifist, sweetie, and I don’t want you to have to hurt someone.”

 

“Melody,” he says, his voice exasperated as he presses his back to hers. “They’re Daleks. Not exactly innocent lives-”

 

“Yes but-”

 

“I chose to fight in this war with you.” He fires his blaster again and she flinches, forcing herself to focus on the fight in front of her rather than the one going on behind her.  “You didn’t drag me into it. So stop worrying about me before you get hurt.”

 

“Stop worrying about you?” She shouts, incredulous laughter in her voice. “I can’t just-” She snarls, plunging her blade into the eyestalk of a Dalek who’d dared think a quiet approach might get it past her defenses. “I need you safe, you idiot.”

 

Behind her, Theta snorts. “A bit difficult to guarantee in a war, dear.”

 

“Yes, I know.” She pulls out her knife and kicks the Dalek to the ground. “And do you realize how impossible it is to concentrate when I let myself think that any minute you could be taken from me?”

 

“Not a chance.”

 

His easy reply makes her grit her teeth. “Theta-”

 

He sighs. “Why don’t you let me protect you for a change?”

 

Melody barely flinches as another explosion blasts several Daleks and soldiers to the ground. “I don’t need protecting.”

 

“And I do?”

 

She scoffs, finally giving in to the urge to glance over her shoulder. Spotting a Dalek in her periphery, she shoots it before Theta can lift his weapon. “After our first kiss, you walked into a tree.”

 

“Well it was an odd place for a tree!” He yelps, ducking with her as a discharge beam whizzes past. “And really I think that little incident had more to do with you than me. How do you expect me to concentrate when you’re being all-” He flails for a moment. “You.”

 

Melody sighs, getting to her feet and yanking him with her. “Theta honey, you’re running in circles around the point.”

 

“Right.” He frowns. “What was the point?”

 

“You need looking after.” She shoves him behind her, firing on a fleet of approaching Daleks. “And I need to look after you.” Her aim is off on the last Dalek and it’s Koschei who saves her, coming up from behind it and shooting it at point blank range. Melody nods her thanks and he shrugs, wading back into the mess. She whirls on Theta, glaring. “So get behind the barricade and wait for my signal.”

 

“Sorry,” he says, not looking sorry at all as he eyes her from beneath his fringe. “Can’t.”

 

Melody growls. “Why the hell not?”

 

“Because,” he says, and his eyes soften as he grins at her. “I’m about to ask you to marry me and it’ll be a bit difficult from all the way over there.”

 

She stops, her eyes wide and her hand frozen around her blaster. “You what?”

 

Theta reaches out to cup her cheek, his thumb caressing her grime-smeared skin. “Marry me, Melody Pond, and we’ll look after each other.”

 

An explosion rocks the battlefield but she barely feels it, gaping at him. “Here? _Now_?”

 

He beams. “Why not?” At her weighted stare, his smile drops and he scratches his cheek. “All right, silly question. But yes, here. Now.” He meets her gaze steadily and Theta usually has a sort of quiet humor in his eyes no matter the situation but there’s none of that levity in him now. “A husband and wife are partners. That’s what I want to be. Your partner – in war, in life. Everything. Tell me you want that too.”

 

She blinks at him, her eyes misting over as she turns her face into his palm. “I do.”

 

As the battle rages around them, Theta rips a strip of red cloth from his soldier’s uniform and grabs her hand. “It’ll have to be the quick version,” he mutters, darting a glance at her. “But we can do it right later.”

 

She shakes her head, watching him carefully wrap the cloth around her hand. “No need, sweetie. Though I’ll take a rain check on a longer wedding night.”

 

He winks at her, and to her delight, barely blushes. “I’ll make it a good one.” Turning his head, he calls out, “Kosch, we’re getting married!”

 

Mid-struggle with a Dalek who has him cornered, wedged between the barricade and a crater, Koschei snaps his head around to gape at them. “What, _now_?”

 

“Yes, now.” Theta entangles his fingers with hers, gripping tight. “Be our witness.”

 

Koschei takes a step back from the advancing Dalek and nearly falls into the crater. “Not sure if you’ve noticed,” he snaps, arms wind-milling as he regains his balance. “But I’m a little busy at the moment.”

 

Melody sighs, using her free hand to reach for the blaster in her thigh holster. She tilts her head, squints, and aims. The shot hits the eyestalk on her first try, though it barely misses Koschei in the process. He jumps, turning to glare at her as she holsters her weapon again. “Now, please.”

 

Still scowling, Koschei glances at Theta. “You’re sure you want to marry her? After all, she’s only half Time Lord-”

 

“ _Koschei_.”

 

He sighs. “Oh all right.” Eyeing them for a moment with something strangely close to fondness, he says, “ I consent and gladly give.”

 

As he turns back to the battle and leaves them to it, Melody remembers with a pang of dread that she’s missing a very important part of the ceremony. Hearts in her throat, she looks at Theta and whispers regretfully, “My parents never gave me a Time Lord name.”

 

“That’s all right – mine’s long enough for the both of us.” Theta grips her hand tenderly, leaning in to brush his mouth against her ear. He whispers his name and though she can barely hear him over the sound of gunfire and explosions, she’ll never forget the way his tongue wraps around the forbidden syllables; the way his fingers fit so perfectly with hers; the way his lashes flutter against her temple as he speaks.

 

The moment he moves to pull away, she turns her head and captures his soft mouth with her own. There isn’t time for the kiss she wants, not here and now, but it’s fierce and passionate and she lets her mind touch his just long enough to let him feel everything she wishes she could say. They pull back flushed and breathless, grinning at each other.

 

“Wife,” Theta says, with just as much reverence as he’d imparted his name.

 

Melody carefully unwraps the strip of cloth from his hand. She ties it into a knot around her wrist, silently vowing to never take it off. “Husband.”

 

He offers her his arm, raising a brow at her. “Shall we?”

 

She takes his hand and draws her blaster as they head back into battle as newlyweds, side by side.


	4. the time war: like a clockmaker fixes time by keeping the gears in line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As hopelessness hangs over them nearly as thick as the scent of death, Melody and Theta lie curled around each other in the dark, their foreheads pressed together as they conjure happy images of the future. It’s how they comfort each other, letting themselves imagine a life outside of this war. Letting themselves hope it will end someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the War wages on, Theta changes, and Koschei makes a decision that will effect them all.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161648709@N02/45999724022/in/dateposted-public/) 

* * *

 

The Daleks just keep coming, invading Gallifrey like an infestation or a plague. No matter how they fight, no matter what they do, there is no stopping them. Winning the war against them seems more impossible with every passing day. Though Theta and Melody refuse to give up, seeing the chaos and destruction around them at every turn is sometimes impossible to bear – especially when there’s nothing they can do to stop it.

 

They’d discovered very quickly that the nature of fighting in a time war meant that timelines were _always_ shifting. Saving people in an outlying village from a Dalek invasion only to discover that most of them had never even been born at all was something that weighed on them both heavily, but Melody knew it hurt Theta more than he’d ever let her see.

 

Rescuing people is how Theta copes in this endless war, what makes him feel useful and gives him a reason to fight. With timelines ever changing, there isn’t always someone to save. It pains her to see it but there is no denying whenever she looks into Theta’s eyes that he’s losing faith – fading away from her like an old photograph.

 

During the day, there are orders to follow and battles to be fought but as the suns set and the fighting wanes, Melody does what she can to keep Theta’s mind on other things. The fruitlessness of their situation plagues everyone and most nights, their desert campsite is quiet and somber. Soldiers huddle together around campfires, warming their hands and staring into the flames like there’s a chance they might be able to warm their hearts as well.

 

As hopelessness hangs over them nearly as thick as the scent of death, Melody and Theta lie curled around each other in the dark, their foreheads pressed together as they conjure happy images of the future. It’s a game they’ve played ever since the first time Theta had let her see what he dreamed of for them – travel and marriage and happy ever after – but it’s taken on a whole new meaning now in their dismal present. It’s how they comfort each other, letting themselves imagine a life outside of this war. Letting themselves hope it will end someday.

 

They’d long ago surpassed the need to touch to share thoughts but more than anything at the end of the day, they need the reassurance of such closeness. Melody is the one to let Theta into her mind, allowing him to escape the darkness of his own for a little while. She conjures the meadow where they played as children, watching Theta lay on his back in the grass and smile up at the sky with a sweet innocence she never sees on his face anymore. Here, there are no demons to haunt him.

 

He looks up at her through his fringe and asks, “How many children will we have?”

 

Melody laughs. “We’re having children?”

 

“Oi, of course we’re having children!” Theta scowls, tugging on her hand until she relents and rests alongside him, her head on his chest and the red grass tickling her bare knees. If she concentrates, she can still smell the bonfires of the camp so she turns her face into Theta’s collar and tries to remember what he used to smell like before ash and death became their only fragrance. “At least three.”

 

She laughs again, startled from her darker musings and pulled back into the world they’ve made for themselves. “One.”

 

“One?” Theta shakes his head, scoffing. “You want to have _one_? How will we have a daddy’s girl and a mummy’s boy if we only have one? How will we get your hair and my eyes on a boy or my brains and your daring in a girl if we’ve only got one? Besides, they need siblings. I don’t want them to be lonely.”

 

She nods slowly, understanding his desire to give his children playmates in each other. She’d been alone her whole life until she found Theta. “All right,” she concedes, pressing a kiss to his throat. “Two. Three would just leave one of them the odd one out, sweetie.”

 

He shrugs and she feels his fingers in her hair. “Fine, we’ll have four.”

 

“Four?” She sits up, gaping down at him. “How in Omega’s name did we get to four children?”

 

Theta grins at her. “It just makes sense, Melody.” With an outstretched hand, he coaxes back against his chest again. Pressing a smacking kiss to the top of her head, he asks, “Now, where will we live?”

 

“Knowing you, probably Earth,” she grumbles, a little miffed about somehow losing the argument over their nonexistent children.

 

“For your information, Melody Pond, I was thinking somewhere a bit closer.” He ducks his head and nips at her ear, laughing softly when she squirms. “Want to see?”

 

When she nods, the meadow disappears and suddenly they’re standing on the outskirts of Arcadia, staring at a picturesque house made of stone. Wildflowers grow everywhere and the forest looms behind while the city sits ahead, close enough to look at but far enough to refrain from being a nuisance to the peaceful quiet. Melody stares at the house with a lump in her throat, longing for the warmth and safety that seeps from the very stones of this place.

 

Beside her, Theta points to a window on the second floor, with a view of both Arcadia and the forest. “That one’s our room.”

 

She swallows hard. “It’s perfect.”

 

He brightens, looking pleased. “Yeah?”

 

She nods, letting herself imagine that this house is real and theirs. One they fill with books and love and laughter. She lets herself believe that one day they’ll have a garden with children running through it and no one ever talks about the war anymore. The smell of unwashed soldiers and decay is there if she thinks on it, but Melody leans her head against Theta’s shoulder and stares at their future, letting herself hope for just a little while longer.

 

-

 

They’re eating a meager dinner of Promarzzi bars around a fire when they get the news. The Daleks had blown up a weapons munitions factory filled with children, leaving behind no survivors. Inevitably, they’ve grown used to casualties in this war – whether from the Daleks or shifting timelines, nothing is ever certain. But never before had the Daleks targeted innocent children, frightened and cowering in an empty factory for safety.

 

After hearing the number of casualties, no one says a word. They stare into the fire with haunted faces, food turning to ash in their mouths. It’s Theta who reacts first. Melody watches with a growing sense of horror tightening her chest as he lurches from his seat. Pale and hollow-eyed, he staggers a few feet away and throws up into an empty wash basin.

 

She moves instantly, snapping back into focus as she walks on numb legs toward him. Dropping to her knees beside him, she rubs his back absently and stares into space as his stomach heaves and tears stream from his eyes. Normally, she might have offered comforting words or at least murmured some soothing nonsense to calm him but nothing at all comes to mind. The only thing she can offer Theta right now is her presence beside him.

 

When he finally looks up, his eyes rimmed red and a desolate expression on his face – as though he’s lost any remaining bit of hope he’d been clinging to – she realizes that she’s wrong. She can offer him something much more than just a hand to hold. “All those children,” he whispers, pressing trembling lips together. “Melody-”

 

“Hush now.” She takes his face in her hands, waiting for him to meet her gaze. When he does, the look in his eyes only firms her resolve. She had promised herself she would get him through this war without blood on his hands. It’s a promise she intends to keep. “We’re going to fix this.”

 

Theta stares at her without a trace of doubt. “How?”

 

Stealing the General’s battle TARDIS to go against the very laws of time isn’t quite the same as taking the Headmaster’s time machine for a quick jaunt to Earth but Melody does it with the same degree of irreverence. She lands them in the factory an hour before the explosion is set to take place and Theta nearly bounces at her side, grinning from ear to ear. She hasn’t seen him this excited to break the rules since – well, since the last time they broke the rules, to be honest.

 

She smiles back at him, checking the monitor and feeling her hearts swell at the sight of all those children waiting outside – still alive and within reach. “Ready to save the day, my love?”

 

“With you?” He winks, clearing recalling the moment she is – when he’d declared himself willing to follow her anywhere. Even into battle. “Always.”

 

The children are understandably frightened to see unfamiliar faces and as such, are quite unwillingly to follow them into the TARDIS. Before Melody can just start picking them up and carrying them kicking and screaming, Theta crouches down to their level and speaks to them in a soft, gentle voice that instantly endears him to his little audience. She watches as he beams at them, as he taps them on the nose and ruffles their hair. He makes them smile and gains their trust, as patient as if he has all the time in the universe at his disposal.

 

Melody has never been all that wonderful with children. She likes them well enough and she isn’t indifferent to the sight of a toddler climbing onto Theta’s lap but she has never quite known how to get them to like her back. She doesn’t have Theta’s quiet confidence around them or his unending patience. She barely remembers her parents and Kovarian had hardly been an inspiring example of how to treat children.

 

Watching as children gather around Theta like he’s some sort of messiah come to save them all, Melody doesn’t find herself as intimidated as she has always been in the past. Instead, there is only a quiet longing that spreads out from her hearts to the tips of her fingers and toes. She _wants_ – aches with it in a way she never has before.

 

Still sitting on the floor, Theta looks at his enraptured audience and asks, “So what do you think? Will you follow me and my wife to a safer spot?” At their tentative nods, he beams and jumps to his feet with a toddler still in his arms. “Excellent. Come along, you lot.”

 

As he leads the way to the TARDIS, the children follow him like that Earth story about the pied piper. He carries a child on his hip and one on his shoulders, another clinging to his leg as he moves. He pushes open the doors and ushers them all inside, smiling softly as they file past him clutching stuffed animals, blankets, and each other’s hands. Melody divides her attention between them and her husband, wondering when the idea of having children had stopped being such a terrifying notion.

 

“Now then,” he says, dropping his gaze to the little one still in his arms. “You don’t mind sitting with Melody, do you? She’s brilliant – much more fun than me, I promise. And look at all this hair.” He reaches out a hand and tugs on one of her curls. Melody watches in long suffering silence as both Theta and the toddler break into grins as the curl springs back into place. “Magic.”

 

Without another word of encouragement, the child reaches for her. Stunned, Melody hesitantly takes the little boy from Theta and settles him on her hip. A little hand dives into her hair instantly and she sighs, glaring half-heartedly at her husband. At his unrepentant grin and quick kiss to the tip of her nose, she softens at once.

 

“You know,” she says, leaning into him. “I think I’ve changed my mind about having children.”

 

Theta lifts a brow at her. “Oh?”

 

“Mhm.” She tilts her head, smiling up at him. “Four is perfect.”

 

To her amusement, his whole dear face lights up. “Have I mentioned lately what a good idea it was to marry you?”

 

Melody crinkles her nose. “Only every day, you sentimental sod.”

 

He laughs, darting in close to press a smacking kiss to her cheek. “Fire up the engines. I’ll be right back.”

 

She stares, frowning as he turns to walk away. “Where are you going?”

 

He glances over his shoulder, fringe falling into his eyes. “There could still be a few scared kids hiding around here somewhere. I want to be sure we’ve got them all.”

 

Melody shakes her head. “Theta, there’s no time-”

 

“Don’t worry, dear,” he calls, already sprinting away. “Back in a mo’.”

 

Fuming, she turns her attention to the toddler currently chewing on a piece of her hair. “If he dies, I’ll kill him.”

 

While he’s gone, she focuses on getting the kids settled. There are frightened children all around the General’s control room, looking up at her with wide eyes, and Melody isn’t nearly as comfortable with such innocent trust as her husband seemed to be. She clears her throat and offers them an uneasy smile, depositing the toddler in her arms onto the seat beside the controls.

 

“Well then,” she says, gazing at the sea of sweet, grubby faces that had been destined to die – collateral in a war they didn’t even understand. Her eyes sting but she forces the tears back, knowing that they’re safe now. She and Theta had changed the course of this day. They were going to give hope where before there had only been despair. “Let’s get a shift on.”

 

Turning from them, she punches in the coordinates that will take them far away from the impending explosion, prepared to take off the minute Theta returns from his mad dash around the factory. She’s inputting the last numbers when she hears the lock engage on the doors. Fully expecting to find Theta behind her, out of breath and possibly carrying a few scared little ones, Melody whirls around.

 

Other than the children, she sees no one else. Around her, she hears the unmistakable sound of the engines firing up. Across the monitor a message flashes. _Safety Protocol Activated_. With mounting horror, Melody realizes that the General must have set the ship to dematerialize at the slightest indication of attack. A TARDIS can see all of time at once and they’re far too close to the moment of the explosion. Sensing the imminent danger, the ship has fallen back on protocol – protect its passengers at all cost.

 

The whole ship jolts and Melody feels dread fill her stomach. They’re in flight.

 

_Theta_. She can’t leave without Theta.

 

Frightened cries fill the control room and she forces herself out of her paralyzing panic, slamming a hand down on the stabilizers. As the ship calms on its trip through the vortex, Melody throws herself at the controls and gets to work on overriding the safety command. She works frantically, her hands shaking as she mutters to herself in a voice that wavers.

 

She can think only of Theta – that last clumsy kiss pressed to her cheek, the way he’d looked at her over his shoulder as he walked away, his ridiculous floppy hair slipping into his eyes. Eyes that have always been so soft when they looked at her.

 

Melody exhales and finds it impossible to inhale again. Her chest feels tight. She feels her throat close up. Breathing doesn’t matter anyway. Her hands fly over the keys, inputting coordinates again. Theta is what matters. She has to get to Theta.

 

After her fifth attempt at landing the second after she’d left and still getting an error message, Melody snarls and slams her fist down against the console. Behind her, she hears a few startled whimpers and bites her tongue, shutting her eyes and forcing herself to breathe. The General’s override settings are isomorphic – there’s no changing them unless he does it himself.

 

“OK,” she breathes, staring at the blinking error message on the monitor. “All right. Fine.”

 

She reaches for the keyboard again with trembling hands, inputting the coordinates to get as close as she can to when she’d last left the factory – minutes after the explosion. The ship offers no resistance this time and she squeezes her eyes shut, praying to every deity she can think of that somehow Theta had made it to safety.

 

As the TARDIS lands, she barely registers the children parting to make room for her as she runs for the doors. She doesn’t register anything at all until she bursts out of the ship and stops short at the sight that greets her. There is nothing left of the factory but a smoking crater.

 

Her hearts drop into her stomach as she stares at the devastation the Daleks had left behind. She staggers into the rubble, gazing unblinkingly at the burnt remains of a teddy bear at her feet. There is no sound but the ringing in her ears. Nothing to see through the smoke but that abandoned toy.

 

Melody swallows thickly, her eyes burning. She’s lost him. There is no way he could possibly have regenerated, judging by the destruction around her. The explosion would have scattered him like dust in the wind. She touches reverent fingertips to the red strip of cloth she still keeps tied around her wrist, though it’s grown faded and ragged with time. He’s gone. The man she has loved ever since he was a scared eight-year-old boy holding her hand is _gone_. Just thinking it knocks the breath from her.

 

She sways on her feet, barely aware of the moment her knees hit the ground. The dirt beneath her is still hot, smearing ash and debris over her trousers. Still clutching her bracelet with one hand, she blinks dazedly at the remains of the teddy bear in front of her and begins to plot.

 

She’ll take the children to safety. She’ll return the General’s TARDIS. She’ll fetch her vortex manipulator from her bag at the campsite and use it to go where the damnable ship refuses to take her. She’ll grab Theta and zap back out again. Or she’ll find Theta and die with him. Either option will do just fine.

 

“Waiting for someone?”

 

She looks up, eyes wild, and stares. While she’d been concocting a rescue/suicide mission, she’d failed to notice the tall, gray haired man who had emerged from the rubble. For a moment, she simply gazes at him with a blank, slightly bewildered expression. He tilts his head, mouth curling up at the corners. His eyes crinkle and that’s what gives him away. They’re different now – blue and piercing – but they still soften when he looks at her.

 

Choking on a half-formed sob, Melody launches to her feet and throws her arms around him. Trembling all over, she doesn’t bother with putting on a brave face for him. She simply buries her face in his neck and grips his tattered soldier’s uniform in her white-knuckled fists. Theta holds her close, humming softly with his lips pressed into her hair.

 

“Hush now,” he whispers, his voice new and familiar all at once. “Did you really think I could leave you?”

 

She sniffles. “I should have known better.” As her thundering hearts begin to slow, Melody wrenches out of his arms and slaps him sharply across his still glowing cheek.

 

The red imprint doesn’t even have time to fully form before the regeneration energy tingling under his skin heals the mark. The sight of her handprint fading only infuriates her further. She glares as Theta straightens, gaping at her. “What the hell was that for?”

 

She shoves at his chest, swallowing past the lump in her throat. “I told you there wasn’t time. Why didn’t you just get in the TARDIS, you idiot?”

 

Theta stares at her, his new eyes studying her with the same quiet confidence as before – a certainty that he knows her better than anyone else ever has. He seems to realize at the same time she does that she’s still shaking like a leaf. Melody clenches her hands into fists and looks away but Theta sighs and steps closer. He takes her face in his hands and she forces herself to really look at him.

 

His eyes are rather intense this go round but it pairs well with those expressive brows. His face is thinner and all of his features are sharper. His mouth is a solemn line and his gray hair is curly and wild around his head. While she understands that regeneration doesn’t change who Theta is, the uniquely human part of her mourns that youthful grin and that floppy hair. It was the face she fell in love with – the face of her childhood. This face looks nothing like him. This is a face crafted by the Time War.

 

As if reading her mind – and maybe he is, considering she’s too rattled to bother with the proper shields at the moment – Theta strokes a hand over her cheek. “It’s still me, Melody.” He leans in, kissing the tip of her nose the way he’s always done. “I’m still me.”

 

Her hearts swell in her chest and she nods, lifting a hand to trace over the new lines on his face. His eyes are soft and fathomless and in them she can spot the man she loves. Meeting his gaze steadily, she cups his cheek in her palm and says, “I see you.”

 

The relief dawns across his face like a sun, a wide grin stretching his mouth. It crinkles his eyes and shows all of his teeth and Melody is instantly charmed, wondering if it’s possible to fall in love with one’s own husband all over again. “So?” He straightens, smoothing out the tattered remains of his uniform. “How do I look?”

 

Melody bites back a smile, pursing her lips and pretending for the moment that there isn’t a TARDIS full of orphans to relocate just behind them. “Amazing.”

 

His smile turns eager. “Can I see?” At her nod, he shuts his eyes and leans in, pressing his forehead against hers. Melody opens her mind to his and lets him see himself through her eyes. The moment he’d appeared through the smoke, her intense study of his new face, that wide grin. Theta slips from her mind suddenly, stumbling back to gape at her. “Sod it, I’m _old_.”

 

Melody laughs brightly.

 

He scowls. “Why am I old? Aren’t regenerations supposed to get younger as you go along?”

 

“Yes, when you let your first body grow old.” She rolls her eyes, still grinning. “You were still terribly young, honey.”

 

“So what?” He makes a wide, irritated gesture with his hands. “My body decided to start with an old one this time and save myself the trouble?”

 

She laughs again, only further delighted when his scowl deepens. He’d never managed to look all that irritable in his last body, his face far too innocent for the expression to make much of an impact. This face, however, seems made for it.

 

Theta tugs at his hair, pulling it over his eyes to study it. “Oh sure, you can laugh. You’re still young and gorgeous and I’m -”

 

When he trails off, Melody supplies, “Old and gorgeous?”

 

He growls at her. “What about next time? Will I be younger?”

 

She shrugs. “I suppose we’ll find out the next time you regenerate – which had better be a long, long time from now. You’re already ahead of me and I insist on even footing.”

 

Theta sighs, shoving his hair back. “Yes, dear.” He hesitates, eyeing her almost timidly for a long moment. Melody hasn’t known this new body long but she can already tell that timid is not going to be a familiar emotion for it. “Are you sure you still… I mean, you married a much younger looking man and-”

 

“And he’s still standing right in front of me.” Finally growing serious, Melody reaches for him. She presses her palm between his hearts and looks up into the face she’s already growing to love just as much as his last. “I married you, Theta, not your face. Besides... “ She licks her lips. “I think I quite like you looking older than me. It makes me feel a bit bad.”

 

“You _are_ bad,” he mutters, but her reassurance seems to have appeased him. His timidity disappears, replaced by smugness she’s far more familiar with. “Still fancy me then?”

 

Melody grins. “Let’s get these kids somewhere safe and I’ll show you how much.”

 

A determined glint in his eyes, Theta grabs her hand and tugs her eagerly in the direction of the TARDIS, Melody laughing the whole way.

 

-

 

Memories are treasured things. The most precious and intangible of all possessions. As Melody watches hundreds upon hundreds of frightened Gallifreyans set their memory lanterns adrift, hoping to preserve some small remnant of their home world in far off corners of the universe, she knows that only one thing could make them part with such cherished wealth. This is the end.

 

In these last days, their hope of ever winning this endless war has been unmistakably and irrevocably doused. The sky trenches that were supposed to be Arcadia’s last defense, the final resort to ensure Gallifrey’s stronghold remained impenetrable, have been broken. The Daleks have managed to destroy all four hundred of them. Now, Melody stands in the middle of the ravaged city and watches her people flee in futile terror.

 

As the streets flood with citizens trying to escape the city, Melody only has eyes for the child standing alone, her trousers ripped and her cheeks smeared with ash. She holds a memory lantern in her small hands, a sad smile curling her mouth as it glows bright against the black backdrop of the sky. She nudges the lantern adrift with tender fingertips, gazing dutifully after it as it floats safely out of sight carrying her best memories.

 

A hand falls rough and impatient on her shoulder and Melody turns, tears in her eyes, to find Koschei scowling at her. “There’ll be plenty of time to be a weepy human when you’re dead,” he snaps. “Until then, why don’t you make yourself useful and help me kill as many of these bastard as we can before we’re exterminated?”

 

She nods, squaring her jaw and dashing a hand under her eyes. Koschei has his faults – and she’s usually happy to list them in alphabetical order – but he always knows how to make her fall into action when it counts. She follows him into the frenzied streets, drawing her weapon as she pushes through the crowd. Everyone else is running away but she shoves her way in the opposite direction, feeling a bit like a fish swimming against the current. The Daleks are heading for the Capitol, so that’s where she needs to be.

 

The closer she and Koschei move toward the Daleks, the emptier the streets. Arcadia begins to look like an abandoned city, doors and windows left open, debris in the streets and abandoned possessions left as though to be reclaimed soon. Her footsteps echo as she walks and Melody glances uneasily around her, unnerved by the quiet. Beside her, Koschei seems to have no such qualms. He whistles as he strides toward certain annihilation and Melody is reminded once more that despite managing to rid him of the drums years ago, he hadn’t escaped with his sanity entirely intact.

 

“Where the hell is your idiot husband?” He asks the question at a normal volume but anything less than a whisper in these deserted streets sounds irreverent. “He’s usually right at your heels like a dog. Or does his new personality find marriage a bit cloying?”

 

Melody rolls her eyes. “No, but he does find you rather tiresome.”

 

“Hardly a dramatic change.” He snorts. “You still didn’t answer me. Where is he?”

 

She shrugs, glancing away. “I’m not sure.”

 

Koschei stops walking, forcing Melody to slow her steps. “He didn’t tell you? He can’t even take a piss without checking with you first.” He guffaws, shaking his head. “Come on, you’ve got to admit he’s bloody weird now.”

 

Melody bristles, though she isn’t sure if it’s more on her behalf or Theta’s. “He mentioned that he had a mission to take care of. I didn’t ask what it was. I trust him.”

 

She glares when Koschei smirks, refusing to admit that even she is still getting used to his new personality. He’s still Theta, composed of all the quirks and qualities that make him so uniquely the man she loves, but there have been changes. He’s more daring these days, not quite as timid as he used to be when it comes to confrontation or when it comes to her. His mouth is sharper now, a sarcastic quip always ready on his tongue. To her relief, it’s still quite a talented tongue where it matters.

 

“You’ll understand when it happens to your wife. It won’t matter what she looks like or even if she’s a she anymore.” She shrugs, letting herself ponder for a moment the possibility of Theta one day becoming a woman. _Intriguing_ … “She’ll be alive. It’s all you’ll need.”

 

Koschei turns his head, glaring into the distance. “In case you’ve forgotten, we’re all about to be wiped from existence so unless my wife has managed to get herself and our daughter off planet, I doubt I’ll need to worry about her changing her face.”

 

Melody shuts her eyes, grimacing. Somehow, she’d forgotten Koschei’s wife and child were out there in that mess, fighting for their lives along with everyone else. She swallows thickly, risking a glance at him. “I’m sorry. I-”

 

A flash of light stalls her apology in her throat and though she recognizes the accompanying scent of the vortex, part of her is relieved for the distraction, knowing whatever she’d said wouldn’t have been well received anyway. She turns, blinking when she finds Theta standing beside her.

 

“Hi honey,” he says, his smile grim. “I’m home.”

 

She frowns. “You stole my manipulator.”

 

He sighs. “Yes, the Daleks are invading and we’re as good as dead but please do focus on my petty theft.”

 

“Where were you?” Her eyes narrow. “Did you even go on a mission?”

 

Theta hesitates. “Not… exactly.”

 

“So you lied to me.” She purses her lips. “You looked into my eyes and lied to me.”

 

“I had to.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it was either that or have a row about it. My way was easier.”

 

“Oh, you complete arse-”

 

“For the love of Omega, save the domestic.” Koschei steps between them, glowering. “We have Daleks to obliterate.”

 

“Pointless.”

 

Melody wants to argue but his expression stills her tongue. She prides herself on knowing Theta better than anyone, on being as familiar with his face as she is with her own. While the face itself has changed, the man beneath has not. “You have a plan. What is it?”

 

Theta taps in new coordinates on the vortex manipulator and holds out his arm. “With me.”

 

Melody and Koschei exchange a wordless, puzzled glance before silently deciding that despite the new face – new everything, really – they still trust Theta more than anyone else. They each grab an arm and as Arcadia falls around them, Theta activates the manipulator. Melody gets one last glimpse of the once beautiful and illustrious city burning just before they disappear.

 

When she opens her eyes again, they’re standing in the middle of the lowlands in the desert. It’s almost a relief to be away from the city and the destruction, cocooned in the relatively untouched desert. If she ignores the smoke far off in the distance, she can almost pretend her home planet isn’t burning as she stands here.

 

In front of them sits the old barn where Theta used to sleep and she stares at it, remembering the days of their youth when she used to sneak inside and crawl into bed with him – perfectly innocent when they were children and far from innocent later on. It’s long abandoned by now and though she hasn’t thought of Theta’s guardians in years, she wonders now where they are and what had happened to them. Something unpleasant, she hopes.

 

Koschei drops Theta’s arm and turns to him with a scowl. “I know you’re a bit of a nostalgic idiot but surely now isn’t the time for a walk down memory lane.”

 

“Shut up and follow me.”

 

Theta reaches for Melody’s hand and she takes it, letting him tug her out of the open air and into the musty barn. Dust motes hang in the air, caught in the sunlight slanting through the broken boards of the ceiling. The loft catches her attention instantly and she feels a nostalgic smile begin to curl her mouth when she thinks of all the times she climbed that ladder, seeking the comfort and safety of the boy waiting for her up there.

 

It takes her longer than it should to notice why Theta had brought them here but when she feels his fingers tighten around her own, she finally turns her head and follows the path of his intent gaze. When she sees it, her breath catches in her throat. “Is that-” She swallows, barely hearing her own voice over the sudden pounding of her hearts. “Is that what I think it is?”

 

Koschei stares at it in silent horror. “Where the hell did you get that?”

 

Without taking his eyes from the Moment, Theta says, “Nicked it from the Omega Arsenal.”

 

Turning to level him with a quiet, determined stare, Koschei orders, “Take it back.”

 

Theta shakes his head, not even looking at him. “No.”

 

“What do you mean _no_?” Koschei snarls. “You think blowing Gallifrey to smithereens is going to fix anything?”

 

“Not for us, no.” Theta crouches in front of the Moment, studying the gears and Gallifreyan etchings quietly. “But you’re delusional if you think the Daleks will stop once they’ve destroyed us. They’ll burn the whole universe.”

 

“And the genocide of our people is the best way to stop them?”

 

“We’ll be the last race the Daleks ever destroy.” Theta lifts his gaze, determination burning in his eyes. “No more. Not on my watch.”

 

Standing caught between Theta and the Moment, Melody blinks hard as her eyes begin to sting. “How could you?”

 

Theta looks stricken and she knows he’d been expecting her to understand him the way she always does. He pales as he takes a hesitant step toward her. “Melody, it’s the only way.”

 

“No.” She shakes her head, wrapping her arms tightly around her middle. “I mean, how could you keep this from me? We’ve always made decisions together, Theta. You planned this. And then you took my manipulator and stole the Moment. All without telling me.”

 

“Melody-”

 

She shies away from him and his outstretched hand, avoiding his gaze. She looks anywhere but at him and the thing sitting between them. “You said you wanted to marry me so we would be partners in everything for the rest of our lives. Do vows change with faces?”

 

“Of course not.” Theta closes the remaining distance between them, grasping her face in his hands – older and calloused but just as tender as ever. Melody lifts her eyes from the ground and finally meets his gaze. His eyes are soft and distressed, tufts of wild gray hair falling over his forehead. By Omega, how furiously she loves this man. “Melody, I know you still think of me as that boy you met all those years ago. You still feel that you have to protect me. I didn’t tell you because-” He sighs, licking his lips. “Because this was me trying to protect you for once.”

 

She leans her cheek into his palm. “Darling, I’m not trying to protect you because I think you’re incapable. I do it because I love you. Because the universe isn’t worth living in if you’re not in it.” She presses her lips together when they tremble, squaring her jaw. “If this has to be done, if you truly believe there is no other way, then I’ll be the one to do it.”

 

“Absolutely not-”

 

“It would be fitting, really,” she says, forcing a smile. “The Time Lords have always believed a hybrid would be their downfall. Pity they’ll never know they were right.”

 

With a determined shake of his head, he says firmly, “This was my idea, dear. I’ll be the one to do it.”

 

Theta drops his hands from her face and fumbles with the vortex manipulator, yanking it off and taking her arm gently. Melody watches in puzzled silence as he straps the device to her wrist, right alongside the red strip of cloth she still wears. When he starts to type in coordinates, she struggles out of his grip with a sharp gasp.

 

“What are you doing?” At his guilty glance, she stiffens. Eyes wide, she hisses, “Are you sending me away?”

 

“Of course I am.” He scrubs a weary hand over his face. “I’m not going to blow up a planet while my wife is still on it.”

 

Behind them, Koschei snorts bitterly. “So you’re condemning her to be the last of her kind instead?”

 

“Shut up,” Theta snarls, glaring over his shoulder. “You’re going with her.”

 

Koschei stares at him, his eyes narrowed in angry bewilderment. “The hell I am.”

 

Theta ignores him. “It’s programmed to take you to 51st century Earth and once you’re gone, I’ll activate the Moment.” He takes a deep breath, studiously avoiding the horrified gazes of Melody and Koschei. “Now, I expect you two to look after each other. It’ll completely ruin my plans of martyrdom if you’re just going to kill each other in a week. Also it’ll probably cross your minds to repopulate our race at some point since you’ll be the last Time Lords left alive so here’s a bit of advice for when that time comes -” He whirls, leveling Koschei with a glare so menacing that the other man actually takes a step backward. “ _Don’t you dare_.”

 

Koschei blinks at him. “Not really interested in your sloppy seconds, you nob.”

 

“Shut up, both of you.” Melody squashes the blooming panic and does the only thing she knows how to do when backed into a corner – she lashes out. With tears in her eyes, she shoves hard at Theta’s chest. He stumbles, caught off guard, and reaches for her wrist to steady himself. Or possibly to protect himself from her sharp slap.

 

“Melody-”

 

“Listen to me,” she seethes. “You stupid, _stupid_ man. If you think for even one second that I would ever leave you here to do this alone then you’ve lost your bloody mind.”

 

Theta swallows, still gripping her trembling hands tightly in his. His thumb strokes the inside of her wrist tenderly as he meets her gaze. “I have to do this.”

 

“Then do it.”

 

He shakes his head. “I can’t. Not until you go.”

 

Melody glares, lifting her chin. “Then you’d better find another way because the only way you’re doing this is with me at your side.” She tangles their fingers together, lifting their joined hands to let him see the ragged cloth bracelet she hasn’t removed since their wedding. The brilliant scarlet of it has faded and it’s grown quite ragged around the edges but never once has it occurred to her to remove it. Theta’s eyes soften at the sight of it now. “Together or not at all.”

 

He sighs and she hears defeat in the sound. “Melody-” He stops suddenly, his eyes darting over her shoulder. Watching the blood drain from his face, she frowns and turns to follow his stare. He’s looking at the Moment – or rather, the space just beside it. As though he’s seeing someone who isn’t there.

 

Recalling whispered rumors about the Moment having a conscience, one that can take on the appearance of someone from the past, present, or future, Melody rests a tentative hand against Theta’s bicep. “Darling, is it…speaking to you?”

 

He nods once, still staring.

 

She digs her fingertips into his arm, warily eyeing the empty space. “What does it look like?”

 

Theta swallows audibly, his voice a soft rasp. “A child.” He turns his head suddenly, looking right at her, and Melody feels her breath catch. His eyes shine and there’s a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. And suddenly she _knows_ with a clarity that renders her speechless. Not just any child. Their child.

 

A soft cry escapes her lips and she feels her eyes well up, caught between laughter and tears. “A girl?” She asks, turning to stare hungrily at the empty space once more. “I think I’d quite like a girl.”

 

Theta nods, gripping her hand. “She’s beautiful. Looks like you, obviously.”

 

Staring in bewilderment at the Moment, Koschei asks, “What the hell are you two talking about?”

 

In unison, Melody and Theta sigh, “Shut up, Koschei.”

 

“Oh fine. Right.” He leans rebelliously against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “I’ll just stand here and listen to you two talk utter rubbish while the fate of our entire race is at stake. Carry on.”

 

With the ease of one who has had years of practice, Melody ignores him. “Why can’t I see her?”

 

“I think only the one in possession of it can.” Theta smiles and though he always softens around her, his new stern exterior all but gone every time he looks at her, Melody has never seen him melt in quite this way. Her hearts ache and she suddenly wants desperately to have a future and children. She’d wondered if he still wanted the same things he’d wanted in his last body but the answer in his eyes is clear. “Want me to describe her to you?”

 

Melody grips his hand. “Please.”

 

“Your hair,” he whispers, grinning. “Your nose. Definitely my eyes and my chin. She’s wearing red school robes and holding a lantern…”

 

He keeps talking but Melody stops listening, her mind catching on the image of the lantern and refusing to let go. She remembers with a pang the little girl standing in the street in Arcadia, sending off her memory lantern into the waiting universe. She thinks in quiet agony of all the children who will die if they go through with this. The factory full of frightened little ones she and Theta had rescued. Babes not yet old enough to stand on their own. All those innocent lives lost, collateral in a war they never asked to be a part of.

 

Melody turns away from the Moment, gazing at Theta pleadingly. “We have to find another way.”

 

Studying her face quietly, her husband lifts a tender hand to her face and promises, “And so we will.”

 

She beams at him.

 

Apparently through with being ignored, Koschei pushes off the wall and stalks toward them. “Another way to stop the Daleks without destroying the planet and everyone on it? Don’t you two think if it were that easy someone else would have done it by now?”

 

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Theta waggles his brows, looking hopeful for the first time since he brought them to the barn. Melody feels her own hearts lift in accordance. “There are undoubtedly some brilliant minds in that war room, making all the decisions we mere soldiers have never had to. But…”

 

Koschei huffs impatiently. “But what?”

 

“I don’t think any of them have had a lifetime of breaking the rules like we’ve got.” He grins, whirling away from them to pace. “Now think. Daleks shooting at us from the sky, heading straight toward the Citadel. And we’ve got…years of experience in detention and a weapon of mass destruction we don’t actually want to use. So how do we stop them?”

 

Koschei growls. “We can’t stop them, you idiot. They’re going to destroy us, then the rest of the universe, and then probably each other because there’ll be no one left to fight.”

 

Theta lights up, snapping his fingers decisively. “That’s it.”

 

“What?”

 

“We get them to destroy each other first.”

 

“How?”

 

Theta frowns. “Don’t know. That’s the next step. How do we get them to forget about us and shoot each other instead?”

 

Koschei snorts. “Disappear?”

 

Melody lifts her head sharply, turning to stare at Theta. Relieved to find him already looking back at her and smiling, she laughs. So many things have changed in the years they’ve been together but she and Theta still operate as if they’re one soul in two bodies, inextricably connected by some invisible string. She doesn’t need their psychic bond to know that he’s thinking the same thing she is.

 

Frowning, Koschei asks, “What? What did I say?”

 

“Something accidentally brilliant.” Theta ruffles his hair and Koschei swats him away with a scowl. “We don’t have to destroy the planet-”

 

“We just have to make it disappear,” Melody finishes.

 

Theta nods eagerly. “The Daleks will be caught in their own crossfire-”

 

“Everyone will assume we destroyed each other -”

 

“But Gallifrey will be hidden away in -”

 

“A pocket universe.”

 

Together, they add, “Safe.”

 

Koschei glances back and forth between them, digesting this mad scheme with his usual aplomb. Finally, he shrugs. “Right. How do we do it?”

 

“Well-”

 

Theta whirls, startled, and stares at thin air once more. Knowing he must be conversing with the Moment, Melody gazes longingly at nothing, wishing she could see the face of their little girl. She will do one day, when this is all over. She has to believe their future is still out there, waiting for them.

 

“We can change it.” Theta looks at them with new excitement in his eyes and Melody feels her hearts lift. “We can reprogram the Moment to save instead of destroy. She says she’ll show us how.”

 

“Right then.” Melody grins at them, her husband and her reluctant friend – the only two people she trusts to have at her side while saving the universe. “Let’s get started.”

 

The three of them labor for hours, slowly and meticulously reworking the Moment to be Gallifrey’s salvation instead of its undoing. Theta paces back and forth, unable to sit still as he translates the Moment’s instructions to them. Melody and Koschei sit sprawled on the dirt floor beside the intricate cube, studying its inner workings as they change its very purpose.

 

They work mostly in silence save for Theta’s occasional instruction. The quiet in the barn is almost oppressive, filled only with their quiet tinkering and Koschei’s sighs of impatience. When they’re finally finished and the Moment comes to life once more, opening like some macabre, budding flower, its mechanical whirr in the stillness is startling.

 

Drawing a breath as one unit, they stare uneasily at their handiwork. Koschei prods it with a wary fingertip. “Is that it? We’re done?”

 

“I think so.” Theta tilts his head, listening. His brief grin fades and he sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Well, that’s just brilliant. I was only just getting comfortable in this one.”

 

Melody frowns, wiping perspiration from her brow. “Sweetie?”

 

He shifts, avoiding her curious stare. “It seems there’s an unfortunate side effect to setting this thing off.”

 

“What?”

 

“Dying.” He grins again, that wide and ridiculous smile that usually makes her a bit weak in the knees. Now, she only feels ill. “Good thing I’ve got a few lives left in me, eh?”

 

He’s trying to keep her from protesting by being his usual flippant idiot self but Melody refuses to be distracted so easily. She scoffs and climbs to her feet, dusting off her knees. “I don’t think so, honey. You’ve had a go at changing your face already. It’s my turn.”

 

Theta huffs. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll be right back!”

 

“Yes, and two whole regenerations ahead of me.” She glares, standing toe to toe with her taller husband. “I told you, I want us on even footing.”

 

He glowers right back, blue eyes narrowed. “I’m doing this.”

 

She lifts a challenging brow. “And I’m not allowed to have a career?”

 

“Yes, whatever you like. So long as it doesn’t involve blowing yourself up!” Theta grasps her by the shoulders, staring into her eyes intently. “Exactly what sort of husband do you think I am?”

 

Melody rolls her eyes. “The kind who knows I’ll recover just fine.”

 

He doesn’t budge. “No.”

 

“Oh for the love of Omega.” Koschei groans. “Will you two just-”

 

“Shut up, Koschei.” Theta sighs, dropping the determined glare to gather Melody into his arms. She fits herself against him snugly, gripping his robes in her fists and pressing her face into his neck. He strokes gentle fingertips along her spine, his lips brushing her temple soothingly. “All right, how about a compromise?”

 

She nods, eager for a solution. “What do you suggest?”

 

“We’ll both press it.” He tightens his grip on her, as though he can’t believe he’s actually agreeing to let her anywhere near the Moment. “We’ll regenerate together. How’s that?”

 

Melody breathes out a shaky sigh, knowing it’s the best she’s going to get. “OK. Fine. Together.”

 

He presses his forehead to hers and she feels the faint, warm hum of his mind. His hands leave her back and inch into her hair to stroke her curls. As a fond smile twists his mouth, he confesses, “I’m going to miss all this hair.”

 

She chokes out a laugh, her eyes stinging. “I’ll try to keep it.”

 

“No.” Theta scatters a series of kisses along her cheekbone. “Just focus on coming back to me, all right? I don’t give a toss about the rest.”

 

“All right,” she agrees, tipping her face toward his. “I love you, you know.”

 

Theta smiles, brushing his nose softly against hers. “I had a feeling you might.”

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Koschei makes a noise of disgust in the back of his throat. “It’s regeneration, not death. We don’t have time for this. You know what -” He darts forward quicker than either of them can react, mashing his finger down against the activator on the vortex manipulator still strapped to Melody’s wrist.

 

In a flash of light, they’re gone.

 

As silence descends on the old barn, Koschei lifts his face toward the orange sky and smiles. “Finally, some bloody peace and quiet around here.”

 

He cracks his knuckles, striding right up to the Moment with none of the hesitation his friends had shown. He loves them – even Melody – in his own way, but they’re overly sentimental sods, the both of them. Best just get on with it. Breathing in one last time and tasting sand and smoke at the back of his throat, Koschei closes his eyes and presses the button.

 

-

 

When they materialize in the middle of a bustling city street at the tail end of the 51st century, Melody knows instantly that they’re in trouble. It takes Theta a moment longer. He growls under his breath and disentangles himself from her, swearing profusely. “Bastard.”

 

She bites her lip, letting him take her wrist and punch in their home coordinates. “Honey-”

 

“I don’t care how funny he thinks it is, now is not the time for this rubbish. We’re in the middle of a sodding war.” Theta keys in the last few numbers and hits the button that should send them hurtling through the vortex again.

 

Except nothing happens.

 

Peering at the error message flashing across the screen, Theta’s brow furrows and he tries again. The same message pops up. “What the hell – it acts as if-”

 

“As if we’re trying to go somewhere that doesn’t exist?” Melody watches as the dire truth of their situation dawns on her husband. Koschei had enacted their plan without them. They’re stranded in the 51st century on a planet that is foreign to them both and going home is essentially no longer a possibility. “If it makes you feel any better, it appears our plan succeeded.”

 

Theta squeezes his eyes shut and sighs. “Not exactly. I’d hoped to still be on Gallifrey when it blinked out of this universe and buggered off to another one.”

 

“Yes.” Melody nods, frowning. “That would have been ideal.”

 

Theta opens his eyes and glares off into the distance. “When we get home, I’m killing him.”

 

She smiles wearily. “ _If_ we get home, I won’t try to stop you this time.”

 

Theta drops his gaze to study her in silence for a moment. Too tired to pretend she isn’t beginning to feel doubt creep into her mind, Melody doesn’t try to put on her usual brave face for him. “We’ll find it,” he promises, reaching for her. “Might take a while though.”

 

“Well it wouldn’t be us if it was easy.” She leans into his side, watching people rush past them on the pavement – hurrying off to live their brief, colorful human lives. “Any ideas about where to start?”

 

He nods, gesturing down the street. “I smell dim sum that way.”

 

Melody winces as her stomach growls. “All right. Dinner first, then Gallifrey.”

 

“Actually,” Theta says, swinging their hands between them as they walk in the direction of food. “I thought we might stop off at the Akhaten market and do a bit of shopping first.”

 

“All right, I suppose we could-”

 

“And the planet Vondrian has the most fantastic beaches.” He grips her hand tight but refuses to actually look at her when she risks a glance at him. As they reach the Chinese restaurant at the end of the street, he holds open the door for her and suggests, “I hear the Eye of Orion is brilliant this time of year.”

 

Melody laughs softly as they make their way to a table in the back of the dimly lit, cozy little place. “We are planning to find home at some point, aren’t we?”

 

“Of course.” Theta slides into the seat across from her and grabs a menu, peering at her hopefully over the top of it. “But we always said we wanted to explore the universe together. What better time than now?”

 

Melody stares at him incredulously. “Now? Seriously?”

 

He shrugs. “We did just help save our whole planet from extinction. I think we deserve a vacation, don’t you?”

 

She laughs again, glancing out the window of the restaurant at the bustling night before them. Beyond the city skyline, the stars blink at her. Here in this little place, with foreign music playing softly in the background and the smell of fried food filling her senses, the horror of a long and bloody war feels lifetimes away. She feels warm and safe and filled with hope – she feels young again for the first time in centuries. It’s a feeling she doesn’t relish letting go of just yet.

 

“You know what darling,” she says, turning back to her husband. “I think you’re right.”

 

“A first time for everything.” He slaps his menu down on the sticky tabletop and declares, “So it’s decided, then? We’re definitely going home.” He grins widely, looking younger than he has since the Time War began, and Melody can’t help but smile back. “The long way round.”


	5. beatitude: i swear you'll see the dawn again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the years since the Time War, they’ve both had their fair share of nightmares to contend with. It’s almost startling to return and see none of the destruction that had been so prevalent when they’d left. It will take time, he knows, to get used to Gallifrey in peacetime again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the prodigal couple returns home. 
> 
> Chapter title from Guiding Light by Mumford and Sons.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161648709@N02/32278131288/in/dateposted-public/)

_Any decent realtor,_

_walking you through a real shithole, chirps on_

_about good bones: This place could be beautiful,_

_right? You could make this place beautiful._

_-_ **Good Bones, Maggie Smith**

* * *

In the years he’s been away, Theta had forgotten how the red dust on Gallifrey permeated every single crevice. It clings to his clothes and stings at his eyes when the wind picks up, seeping into his lungs every time he breathes. He stares out at the expanse of land before him, drinking in the red sky and the silver trees lining the edge of the forest in the distance. The glittering dome of the citadel catches his eyes as it gleams in the setting suns and he feels an inexplicable lump rise to his throat. It’s breathtaking how very much he has missed a place he spent the entirety of his youth dreaming of leaving.

 

Feeling absurdly sentimental, the relief of soothed homesickness curling around his hearts, he fumbles at his side for Melody’s hand. Her fingers twine with his instantly, as though she’d been waiting for him to reach for her. Tearing his eyes away from his homeworld, he glances at his wife and finds her eyes shut and her face tipped toward the sky. Theta stares at her, speechless, as the light embraces her honeyed skin. He’d forgotten how exquisite she looked in Gallifreyan twilight. 

 

Reluctant to disturb the hush that has fallen over them, he asks softly, “Is it how you remember?”

 

Melody smiles sadly, opening her eyes. “Not quite. I seem to remember a bit more shooting going on the last time.”

 

He nods, squeezing her hand. In the years since the Time War, they’ve both had their fair share of nightmares to contend with. It’s almost startling to return and see none of the destruction that had been so prevalent when they’d left. It will take time, he knows, to get used to Gallifrey in peacetime again. “Me too.”

 

“Well?” Melody glances over her shoulder, her amusement growing at the sight of their latest companion glancing around with unease. “What do you think?”

 

Nardole takes off his glasses, cleans them with the sleeve of his coat, and slips them back on. Squinting into the setting suns, he observes, “It’s very...orange.”

 

Theta sighs and though Melody rolls her eyes, he can spot the smile she tries to stifle. It hadn’t taken them long to discover they liked traveling best with someone new and optimistic to make the universe exciting. Melody hadn’t been overly bothered about species but Theta much preferred the company of humans. Over the years, they’ve taken on dozens of starry-eyed young men and women. Some of them had left of their own accord, some against their will, and some had been lost entirely. Those losses weigh heavily on them both but with each other to turn to, they’ve never lost faith in the natural goodness of the universe. 

 

While hardly their usual sort, Nardole has proven to be an asset all his own. He’s seen much but has somehow managed to maintain a certain level of childlike simplicity. Only those who cross him or his friends understand that he hides a stout heart and a spine of steel beneath his jovial, cowardly exterior. Melody has grown so fond of him that Theta fears she’s only days away from asking to adopt him. In her mind, there had been no question about it when they finally found Gallifrey again – Nardole was going with them.

 

Theta relocates his sunglasses from the top of his head, sliding them up the bridge of his nose. With a smirk, he says, “Pity orange isn’t your color.”

 

Nardole huffs. 

 

Eyeing the city in the distance, Melody lifts her chin in that endearingly brave way that still makes Theta’s stomach flutter. “I suppose we should get going.”

 

He hums his agreement, reaching for her hand again. “Just picture the looks on their faces. Poor bastards probably thought they were well rid of us.”

 

As they begin their long trek across the sand and into Arcadia, Melody smiles and swings their hands between them. “It’s almost enough to make you feel sorry for them.”

 

“Almost.” Theta winks at her, kicking up a bit of sand with his boots. “Are we absolutely sure about this? Could always turn around before they notice us.”

 

Melody pretends to consider this, as though they hadn’t agonized over the decision to return. As though they hadn’t mutually decided to give up their vagabond existence and try to settle down on their home planet, at least for a while. They’d never planned to be away for quite so long and now, the very idea of returning is daunting. “Where would we go?”

 

“Surely there’s a nude beach we haven’t visited.” Theta eyes Nardole over the rim of his sunglasses. “You’re not invited, obviously.”

 

Nardole reddens in irritation. “Yeah, like I’d want to see your pasty arse in broad daylight.”

 

Theta stares at him in speechless outrage and Melody tuts, relinquishing his hand to pat his bum fondly. “Don’t listen to him, darling. I’ve no complaints at all.”

 

Over her shoulder, Nardole makes a disgusted face. Theta sticks out his tongue. 

 

Catching the childish gesture out of the corner of her eye, she sighs. “Not about your bum, anyway.”

 

“Nonsense.” Theta grabs her hand and kisses the back of it, waggling his brows at her over the rim of his sunglasses. “You love me.”

 

“Wildly.” Melody wrinkles her nose, eyes dancing. “It’s my only fault.”

 

“Agreed.” Theta ducks his head, pressing his lips to the worried crease between her brows. Quietly, so only she can hear, he says, “Stop worrying, sweetheart. It’s going to be fine.”

 

She nods, leaning back to look into his eyes. “I know. It’s all just a bit overwhelming.” She smiles, though it’s still a bit too strained for his comfort. “I’ll feel better once we’re settled and everyone knows we’re back.”

 

“Erm, not to interrupt…” Nardole edges closer to them and they look up, startled. “But I think they already know.”

 

His eyes are on something ahead and Theta and Melody turn to follow his gaze. Standing at the threshold of Arcadia is a lone figure – a woman with dark hair wearing red robes and pacing a path in the sand as she watches their approach. Despite having never seen her before, there’s something inexplicably familiar about her impatient gait and the tilt of her head. 

 

“Come on then,” he says, dropping his hand to the small of his wife’s back. “Let’s face the music, shall we?”

 

The woman taps a foot irritably as they reach her, eyeing them with barely concealed disapproval. Once they’re close enough to hear her, she drawls, “Well, well… look what the time vortex dragged in.”

 

Melody lifts an eyebrow. “You know us?”

 

“Oh yes, you’re practically celebrities round these parts.” The woman smiles and Theta studies her sharp eyes in silence, cataloguing the similarities. They’re a different color but still ice cold and just a bit feral, broadcasting a warning to any who might dare to provoke. “The _saviors_ of Gallifrey, they call you.”

 

“Sorry,” Melody says. “I don’t recognize you…”

 

“Missy,” the stranger supplies, after only a beat of hesitation. Theta knows instantly that it’s a lie. Melody does too, judging by her puzzled frown. Missy pauses, studying them in silence for a moment too long to be considered polite. There’s something almost fond in her otherwise distant expression that finally settles the matter for Theta. “I’ll let everyone know you’re here, shall I?”

 

“Actually-” Theta holds up a hand to stop her. “There’s someone we’d like to see first. Can you tell us where to find Koschei? He should really be the first to know we’re back.”

 

Missy freezes but only for a fraction of a second before she pastes on a solemn expression that looks positively unnatural, as if she hasn’t had much practice with the emotion. “Oh dear, didn’t you know?” She presses her fingertips to her lips. “He’s dead.”

 

Melody inhales sharply, looking stricken, but Theta squeezes her hand. “Really?” He asks, barely managing to keep the laughter out of his voice. “Huh.”

 

Blinking at his complete lack of reaction, Missy elaborates, “Kicked the bucket. Bit the dust. Bought the farm. Cashed in his chips. Pushing up the daisies. Shuffled off this mortal coil-”

 

“Well that’s a pity,” Theta interrupts, watching her grow red in the face. “Though I’m not surprised. He probably didn’t last one day without us. Bit of a useless sod, wasn’t he, dear?”

 

Catching on, Melody’s eyes widen in understanding and Theta watches her muscle down a grin. Nodding sagely, she agrees, “A complete idiot. Not even that good looking either, may he rest in peace.”

 

Missy squeaks in outrage and hisses, “I was too!”

 

Theta smirks.

 

She deflates, glaring. “How long have you known it was me?”

 

“Since you opened your mouth.” Theta rolls his eyes. “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize my own best mate?”

 

She pouts, crossing her arms and sniffing primly. “Clever clogs.”

 

“What?” Theta grins. “No hello?”

 

She sighs. “Hello. Glad you’re not dead, etcetera.” 

 

Melody crinkles her nose. “Good to see you too, Kosch.”

 

“I’m cross,” she admits, frowning. “Would it have killed you to drop a postcard now and then?”

 

“Thought about it,” Theta says, shrugging. “But the postage for mailing to pocket universes was outrageous.”

 

Muttering _excuses_ under her breath, Koschei holds out a hand expectantly. “Did you bring me anything, at least?” She darts a glance at Nardole still standing behind them and grimaces. “I do hope it isn’t that.”

 

Nardole scowls. 

 

“Erm, no,” Theta says wryly. “He’s really more like Melody’s souvenir.”

 

“Oi!”

 

Theta waves away the squeak of protest, reaching into his coat pocket. Pulling out the first thing he feels – which happens to be a bag of crisps – he holds it out to Koschei. She stares at it like one might a particularly nasty species of vermin. Theta shrugs and opens the bag, popping a handful into his mouth. “Suit yourself.”

 

“Honestly, darling.” Melody slips her hand into his other pocket and pulls out the real gift, shaking her head in exasperation. “Must you carry on like you’re in your first century?”

 

Koschei makes a grab for the Tissue Compression Eliminator like someone might snatch it away, her eyes gleaming as she studies it. Theta had nicked it himself, years of Melody’s undiluted influence and a whole universe of shiny objects giving him a bit of a penchant for thievery. To his relief, Koschei looks pleased with the peace offering. He can almost see a few nefarious plots already forming in that devious mind, probably to shrink everything Theta owns and hide it. She clutches it to her chest and offers a begrudging, “Welcome back, I suppose.”

 

Sighing, Melody says, “Prettier face. Same Koschei.”

 

Koschei preens as though given a compliment.

 

Exchanging amused glances, Theta and Melody share the same thought between them. 

 

_It’s good to be home._

 

-

 

_Step, step, turn._

 

_Step, step, turn._

 

“Theta-”

 

_Step, step, turn._

 

“Darling-”

 

_Step, step, turn._

 

Melody moves directly into his path, stopping him in his tracks. Even if she hadn’t, the sight of her glower would have stayed his feet anyway. “So help me, sweetie, if you don’t stop that pacing I am going to tie you up and _not_ the way we both enjoy.” 

 

He sighs, scrubbing his hand roughly over his face. “Sorry,” he says, peering at her through his fingers. “I just have a bad feeling about all this.”

 

They both take a moment to glance around the empty antechamber, their eyes landing on the towering, heavy double doors hiding the High Council from view. Ever since they’d been summoned to the very heart of the Capitol, Theta hasn’t been able to shake the inexplicable fear that something is going to happen. Something he isn’t going to like. 

 

Rubbing a hand over his chest, Melody says, “I know. This place makes a girl feel a bit on edge – like the Headmaster’s office all over again.”

 

Theta snorts softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You were never afraid of the Headmaster.”

 

“No,” she admits ruefully. “Which makes this all the more unsettling.”

 

With his stomach tying itself into knots, Theta has no words of comfort to offer her. He wraps her in his arms instead, swaying her gently in place and humming off tune in her ear. Melody relaxes for the first time since they walked into the Citadel, leaning into his chest, and Theta feels his own hearts slowing their rhythm in accord – as though his emotions are tied to hers with an invisible thread. 

 

He closes his eyes and breathes in the scent of her hair tickling his cheek, letting one of his hands drop to circle her wrist. At the feel of a collection of bracelets, string, and silk wrapped around her slim wrist — one for each wedding they’ve had over the years — he hides a smile. It takes him a moment to locate the one he’s looking for, blindly feeling with his fingertips for the ancient, fraying red cloth. When he finds it, he breathes out and allows himself to forget where he is for just a moment. 

 

“It’s probably nothing, don’t you think?” Melody asks softly. “Didn’t Koschei say something about us being considered heroes now?”

 

“Hmm.” Theta hooks his fingers around her wedding bracelet and tugs gently. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

 

She frowns, lifting her head. “What do you mean?”

 

“Koschei told me last night that Rassilon is gone. Overthrown right after we defeated the Daleks.” He purses his lips, meeting her gaze steadily. “They’ve never truly recovered from the war and they’ve endured an endless string of temporary rulers. At the moment, they happen to be between Presidents and I have a terrible feeling they’re going to ask me to lead them.” He scowls. “Nothing inspires trust in the government like a war hero in charge.”

 

Melody presses a hand to his cheek, her smile small and encouraging. “Would that be so bad?”

 

“Being in charge of all these pompous gits?” He asks, arching an eyebrow. “Yes.”

 

“Dramatic sod,” she mutters, patting his cheek. “Besides, maybe having you as their leader might make the rest of them a bit more bearable.”

 

He frowns. “Or make me more _un_ bearable.”

 

Melody wrinkles her nose. “Impossible.”

 

“Is that sass?” He lifts an eyebrow. “Is my wife sassing me on the eve of my presidential nomination?”

 

Her eyes gleam with mischief. “What if I am?”

 

“Then you’ll be sorry when I marry someone else and make _them_ First Lady of Gallifrey.” He kisses her cheek when she rolls her eyes, grinning. “Not to worry, you’ll always be my favorite wife.”

 

She smiles. “And I’ll always remember you fondly after I’ve killed you.”

 

“Talking of assassinating the President now?” He smirks. “That’s treason.”

 

Melody presses against him suggestively, lowering her voice in that delectable way that always makes him shudder. “Going to punish me?”

 

“Oh yes, my bad girl.” He presses a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth, groaning quietly when she turns her head and nips sharply at his lip. “Just as soon as we ditch the pompous gits.”

 

She hums throatily, eyes fluttering closed as he brushes his mouth along her jaw. “Looking forward to it.”

 

“ _Ahem_.”

 

Theta pulls back with a sigh at the sound of a pointed cough, smirking at Melody’s flushed cheeks and glittering eyes. It’s impossible to be embarrassed about making her look like that. Melody huffs, elbowing him as she mutters, “Oh don’t be smug. You’re insufferable when you’re smug.”

 

He frowns. “Are you saying I’m always insufferable?”

 

“You catch on fast.” She winks, finally turning in the direction of their interruption. “Yes?”

 

To Theta’s immense satisfaction, Braxiatel looks far more uncomfortable than either of them. “If you’re quite through necking like teenagers, we’re ready for you.”

 

Theta arches an eyebrow at his brother. “We’re not finished, actually. Don’t suppose you could come back later?”

 

Brax places a hand over his hearts, as if wounded. “The first time I’ve seen you in an age and you want me to go away?”

 

“Please.”

 

Melody sighs, nudging Theta fondly. “It’s good to see you, Brax.”

 

“And you, Melody.” He smiles, tossing a reproving glance at Theta. “Though I’m sorry to see your taste hasn’t improved.”

 

Brax leads them past the heavy double doors and into a long, narrow room with vaulted ceilings. Through the skylights overhead, the afternoon suns beam down upon the ornately carved wooden table where the High Council sits stiffly, awaiting their arrival. There are three empty chairs – one of which is filled as Brax takes his seat. The other two chairs, clearly meant for Theta and Melody, have been positioned at the head of the table. It doesn’t escape Theta’s notice that this is traditionally where the Lord President would sit if they had one. 

 

Melody purses her lips like she’s noticed it too, though it only seems to amuse her. She swallows a smile at his expense and takes a seat. One of the stuffy Cardinals finally speaks – Matthias, Theta remembers –welcoming them to the Citadel and thanking them for their efforts in the war. Theta stops listening. He hasn’t the patience for small talk. In a bid to quell the nervous energy thrumming through his veins, he helps himself to the tea and cakes arranged in the middle of the table. 

 

He pours a dash of milk into Melody’s cup and drops in two cubes of sugar. Handing it to her wordlessly, he waits until her fingers brush his as she takes it from him before preparing his own cup. No milk but he grabs a handful of sugar cubes and drops them in one by one. Satisfied, he reaches for a cake from a plate heaping with them. There are cherries on top and he grimaces, plucking them off and holding out a hand without looking. 

 

Melody doesn’t pause in her reply to Matthias, letting him deposit the unwanted cherries into her palm. She pops one into her mouth, smiling tightly at some polite comment from Narvin. Theta sips his tea and finally tunes back into the conversation just as it begins to get interesting. 

 

“I’m sure you’re wondering why we’ve invited you both here today.” Romana smiles. “It isn’t just to welcome you back, though we’re glad to have you among us again.”

 

Theta stifles a derisive snort. “Wish I could say the same,” he says, pushing away the half eaten cake. “Most advanced civilization in the universe and we still can’t make a dessert that wouldn’t make Gordon Ramsey want to hang himself.”

 

Melody drops a hand under the table and pinches his thigh. Hard. 

 

He hisses through his teeth, barely managing to keep from jumping out of his chair. “Sorry,” he mumbles, grimacing. “You were saying?”

 

Romana inclines her head, apparently willing to ignore the silent domestic happening across the table. “As I mentioned to your wife, we’ve spent decades cleaning up the physical damage wrought upon Gallifrey by the war but the internal devastation isn’t so easily rebuilt. Unfortunately, Rassilon left a great deal of additional damage in his wake before he was...eradicated.” Romana clears her throat delicately. “There is much still to be done and we are in dire need of someone to lead us.”

 

Theta sinks back in his chair, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Knew it,” he mutters.

 

Melody pinches him again, smiling encouragingly at Romana all the while. “Go on.”

 

“Well…” Romana exchanges a quick glance with the others, shifting in her chair and managing to show the first sign of real emotion Theta has seen since they walked into the room. “In the days since your return, we’ve taken a vote. It was… not a unanimous decision. It was actually quite close. However, we’ve decided on a preferred candidate.”

 

“Oh?” Melody sips her tea, clearing enjoying Theta’s misery. “Who?”

 

Romana smiles, bright and kind. “You, Melody.”

 

“No, sorry. Can’t.” The automatic decline of the offer slips off his tongue before Romana’s words register. As Melody stills beside him, Theta blinks and straightens in his chair. “Wait, sorry. You didn’t actually ask me just now, did you?”

 

“We considered it,” Romana admits. “You have the makings of a great leader. But you’re too…”

 

“Handsome?”

 

“Unreliable.”

 

Theta scowls. “Reliable enough to save your sorry arses.”

 

“Sorry,” Melody interrupts, holding up a hand. Only Theta notices the slight tremor of her fingers. “Me? You want me? The same person you placed under the care of an abusive government employee because you thought I might destroy the planet?”

 

Romana shifts again as the others look away, darting guilty glances elsewhere. “Kovarian’s actions were indeed regrettable. We hope you won’t hold such cruelty against us.”

 

“And why not?” Theta asks, glaring at them. “You were in charge of the bint.”

 

Melody places a quelling hand over his knee beneath the table and he quiets, lacing their fingers together. “Why me?”

 

“You’re qualified -”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“You may not be as well-versed in politics as some, Melody, but that can be learned. What cannot be taught is courage and compassion and the ability to make important decisions under pressure. You hold all of that in spades – thanks in part to the war, yes, but also because of who you are.” Romana folds her hands diplomatically on the table, leaning forward with startling desperation in her eyes. “During this time of upheaval, our people are looking for a hero to lead them. Someone they admire and respect. To many, that is exactly you.”

 

“We need you, Melody,” Brax says from the other end of the table. “You’d be a shining beacon of our victory – in the most public position possible.”

 

“She isn’t a trophy to parade about, Brax,” Theta snarls. “You want a shining beacon find a torch.”

 

Melody squeezes his hand gratefully, turning to Romana. “Why can’t you do it? You did before.”

 

“And I did again, for a while. My time as President is at an end.” She shrugs delicately. “I am not what Gallifrey needs now.”

 

“And I am?”

 

Romana smiles. “That’s what we’re hoping.”

 

Shaking her head, Melody breathes out slowly. “I appreciate the offer, truly. But I’ve only just arrived home again – I haven’t even settled in yet. I don’t know what our people have faced since the end of the war or what they need-”

 

“We understand this is overwhelming,” Brax soothes, his voice soft and gentle in that way it always is with Melody. Theta’s quite positive his brother likes her better than him. “You don’t need to give us your decision now. Take a few days to think about it. We’ll reconvene in a week.”

 

Melody meets his gaze steadily, squaring her shoulders. “My answer will still be the same.”

 

Brax smiles. “We’ll see.” He glances at Romana for confirmation and at her nod, he says, “You’re dismissed.” He winks. “For now.”

 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Theta leaps from his chair at once and nearly spills his tea in the process. With Melody on his heels, he marches for the door, needing some air and room to pace. As he turns the handle and moves to step into the corridor outside, he hears someone mutter, “Just as well. Can you imagine? A half blood leading Gallifrey?”

 

He freezes, clenching his jaw as he remembers Romana’s earlier admission. 

 

_It wasn’t a unanimous decision._

 

Beside him, Melody goes utterly still. Eyes narrowed, she listens as the loathsome little miscreant goes on. “I can assure you, her mongrel blood couldn’t have handled the pressures of such an important position.”

 

Theta sees red, turning blindly toward the voice with his hands clenched into fists. Only the sight of his wife’s face stops him from grabbing the foul man by the collar of his ceremonial robes and hauling him through a skylight. Melody is smiling. It’s the very same smile he has seen her wear while standing atop somewhere very high up, daring anyone to tell her not to jump. Daring him to catch her. He feels his breath hitch at the sight of that smile now, his lungs burning as he waits for her next move. 

 

“On second thought,” she says, casual as though deciding to order extra chips with her dinner. “I haven’t got anything better to do, have I?”

 

Romana and Brax exchange delighted glances. “Does this mean you accept?”

 

Lips curled into a dangerous grin, Melody stares down the man who’d dared to insult her. “Absolutely.”

 

-

 

Melody’s office in the Citadel is the size of most civilians’ houses. Not unlike the High Council Chamber, the ceiling is made up entirely of skylights, bathing the room with the orange glow of early afternoon. The walls are lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves stuffed with heavy Gallifreyan texts but Theta had been completely disappointed to discover that most of the books were about politics. Give him a tale of harrowing adventure and a happy ending over a line-by-line breakdown of the constitution any day. 

 

On one end of the room is an elegant seating area where he can only presume Melody is supposed to have tea and crumpets with all sorts of very important, very boring people. At least when Koschei isn’t sprawled across the sofa with a hand over her eyes as if she simply cannot be asked to do one more task for the day. Theta still can’t quite believe Melody had made Koschei her Chief Counselor. The two of them have never truly managed to get along, merely tolerating each other for Theta’s sake. For some reason, now that Koschei has this new feminine body they’re almost... _friends_. 

 

It gives him the creeps.

 

On the other side of the room most of the space is taken up by a massive oak desk, intricately carved with Old High Gallifreyan symbols for power, wisdom, and nobility. Theta imagines it must be a magnificently intimidating sight when not completely covered with documents, memos, and scattered books on presidential procedure. Behind the desk sits Melody, her hair a little wilder than usual and a harried expression marring the face Theta so loves. Despite his misgivings about, well, _everything_ he has to admit she looks rather fetching in those scarlet robes. 

 

At her shoulder, Nardole stands frantically typing notes into a data pad as Melody speaks. She doesn’t look up when Theta steps into the room, though his footsteps echo on the marble floor until he reaches the thick rug in front of her desk. She only notices him when he sets down a picnic basket right on top of the papers she’d been reading. Theta tries a winning smile but he’s grown to understand that his latest regeneration hasn’t the face for the wide, charming grins of his previous self. His wife has never seemed to mind anyway.

 

“Afternoon dear,” he says, leaning in. Encouraged when Melody tips her face up to accept his brief kiss, he lets himself hope he can tempt her away from her work. “Thought you might be hungry after a morning spent terrorizing the government.”

 

“Darling, I _am_ the government.” She wrinkles her nose in that becoming way of hers, curls bouncing as she shakes her head. “But I’m sorry, there really isn’t time for a leisurely lunch today.”

 

“Sure there is.” He opens the basket, beginning to pull out the sandwiches he’d packed. “I brought your favorite – roasted grockleroots on warm ciabatta.” He waves the sandwich enticingly under her nose, grinning when she swats him away. “There’s also karmine pudding, blue fruit, and – don’t ask me how, I’ve been sworn to secrecy – jammie dodgers.”

 

Melody bites her lip. “Theta-”

 

“Oh all right, if you must know I made Brax fetch some on his last mission but-”

 

“Honey,” she interrupts with a sigh. “I really can’t today.”

 

“You can’t take five minutes to have lunch with your husband?” He produces two glasses from the basket, then reveals the bottle of Rassilon’s Red he’d been hiding. 

 

“There’s too much to do this afternoon,” she says, shaking her head. “We’ll have dinner together this evening, all right?”

 

“Dinner? That’s _hours_ away.” As he uncorks the wine, he says, “You’ll feel better after you’ve eaten and then we can-”

 

“ _Theta_.”

 

At her quiet, stony reprimand, he freezes. For a moment they simply stare at each other – Melody still clutching a pile of official looking documents and Theta gripping the wine stubbornly. He can tell that she’s angry with him but he barely even cares, drinking in the sight of her. This is the most he has seen of his wife in days. 

 

She’s only just started but the Presidency is already taking up most of her time. He hasn’t spent this much time away from her since their childhood and he hates it. He hates being away from her, hates that she decided this without him when they’re supposed to be partners, hates that she’s spending all of her time with people who would gladly have locked her away at the start of the war. 

 

His wife looks away first, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Nardole,” she sighs. “Give us a moment, would you?”

 

Nodding silently, Nardole leaves the data pad on the desk and starts for the door. 

 

Melody looks up. “Take Koschei with you.”

 

Grumbling a bit now, Nardole makes a brief stop to drag a barely conscious but no less threatening Koschei from the sofa and out of the office. The door clicks softly shut behind them. Melody stands at once, taking the wine from Theta’s numb fingers and tucking it back into the basket alongside everything else. He watches silently as she repacks his surprise picnic, wondering if he’s about to have a conversation with his wife or a scolding from the Lady President.

 

Melody answers his unvoiced question by taking his hand and leading him to the sitting area on the other side of the room. Gesturing to the sofa, she demands, “Sit.”

 

With a belligerent frown, Theta almost refuses but one glimpse of his wife’s face reveals what a terrible decision that would be. He sits, slouching back into the surprisingly soft cushions and feeling like a rebellious teenager due for a telling off. Melody doesn’t join him, pacing in front of the massive, ornate hearth before them. 

 

Her robes swish around her as she moves, trailing the marble floor behind her. It reminds him of fonder days, traveling through time with her vortex manipulator and visiting all the best historical hotspots. Melody’s curves had been made for corsets and ball gowns. He had taken great delight in twirling her around the finest parties, his hand on her hip and her laughter in his ear. She’s far from that carefree woman now, the mantle of the presidency already weighing heavily on her shoulders. 

 

Finally, Melody turns to him and takes a breath. “It occurs to me that we haven’t really talked about this.”

 

Still lost in better memories, Theta asks, “What?”

 

She wraps her arms around her middle, not quite looking at him. “My decision to accept the presidency.”

 

“Oh,” he says dryly, unable and unwilling to keep the resentment from bleeding into his voice. “Were we supposed to discuss it? I just assumed you do as you like now and damn what I think about it.”

 

Her eyes snap to his and she drops her arms, stiffening at his sharp tone. “All right, what is this about? Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

 

He stares at her, bewildered. “Why would I be jealous?”

 

She shrugs. “They didn’t ask you.”

 

“If you’ll recall,” he says slowly, scowling. “I didn’t want to be sodding president.”

 

Melody throws up her hands, glaring. “Then what’s the matter with you?”

 

“We’re supposed to be partners,” he snaps, nostrils flaring. In front of him, Melody goes still. “And you made this enormous decision without even talking to me about it first. Someone pissed you off so you took a job that changes everything for us just to shut him up. Not that he didn’t deserve to be taken down a peg but you could have _at least_ waited to-”

 

“I know. I’m sorry.”

 

“And now I’m what? Bloody first husband of Gallifrey while you work with the people who made your childhood hell based on a myth made up by some old crones?” He clenches his teeth, lifting a hand to ruffle his hair. He raises his eyes to his wife, staring at her helplessly. “And I can’t even feel your mind anymore. Every time I try there’s this fucking _wall_ , like you’ve got to keep your precious government secrets safe from me now.”

 

“Theta.” The soft sound of her voice might not have caught his attention if not for the sudden touch of her tender hand smoothing his hair back down. She stands beside him, looking down at him with such regret in her eyes that he feels all of his ire bleed out of his tense frame instantly. He slouches, elbows on his knees, and lets her pet his hair. “I said I’m sorry, my love.”

 

He blinks, lifting his head. “Did you?”

 

She nods, smiling weakly, and he finally notices how tired she looks. Radiant, of course, in a way only Melody ever manages, but there are shadows under her eyes and a seemingly permanent crease of worry between her brows. “I thought you might have missed it, since you were in the middle of a rather impressive tirade.”

 

“I-” He forces himself to stop staring, looking away with a frown. “Yes, I did. Don’t suppose you’d repeat it? Not every day a husband gets to hear that he’s right, after all.”   


“Don’t get used to it.” She sighs, finally taking a seat beside him on the sofa. “I am sorry, darling. I was so caught up in making that man look like an idiot that I forgot we make our decisions together.” She twists her hands in her lap and Theta takes them between his own, kissing her knuckles. Melody bites her lip, watching him brush his lips over her skin. “I just want to show them that a half Time Lord can do the job just as well as a whole one.”

 

Theta shakes his head. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, sweetheart.”

 

“Maybe not,” she agrees, and he feels her hands tremble in his grasp. Puzzled, he watches her lick her lips and take a breath. “I’m doing this because I’m not going to be the last part human Time Lord. And when our child comes along, I want there to be no doubt that they’re just as good as any pure blooded prick on this planet.”

 

“Of course but-” He stops, his eyes widening. “Wait, are we talking about a hypothetical child or…”

 

Melody smiles and it’s one he’s never seen before. It’s bright and hopeful, a maternal pride that lights up her whole face like sunshine. His hearts skip several beats before she admits, “I’m pregnant, sweetie.”

 

The whole world stills, frozen inside this one beautiful moment he wishes he could cup his hands around and keep forever. “You’re-” He feels a ridiculous, wide grin start to overtake his face. Melody’s mouth twitches in accordance. “You’re pregnant.” 

 

At her nod, he laughs out loud. 

 

Reaching for her, he pulls her into his arms and kisses her with the wild exuberance of their teenage years. Melody giggles against his mouth and he swallows the sound, cradling her face in his hands. Her mind opens to his all at once, the warm familiarity of her flooding through him as she allows him to feel her complete joy. She shows him that the only reason she’d concealed her mind from his these past days was so she wouldn’t ruin the surprise. 

 

Overwhelmed, Theta blinks back tears and kisses his wife again. He kisses her nose and her cheeks, her eyelids and her forehead, then ducking down to press a reverent kiss to her still flat stomach – all the while repeating the only thing that matters anymore. “ _We’re having a baby_.”

 

“That’s why I turned it down at first,” Melody confesses, her breathless whisper against his cheek. “But I couldn’t pass up a chance to make the future a better place for our child.”

 

Nuzzling his nose against hers, Theta sighs. “You’re going to be a brilliant President, Melody.” He smiles, threading his fingers through her curls. “But you’re going to be an even better mother.”

 

She flushes, biting her lip. “So you’re alright with all this?”

 

“I’m more than just alright with it, sweetheart. I’m-” His eyes sting and he has to pause, swallowing roughly. “I’m happy. _Really_ happy. And so damn proud of you I could burst.”

 

Melody beams, the worried crease between her brows disappearing and even the shadows under her eyes chased away by the light of her smile. She presses a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth and he feels her mind brush his, as though she’d missed the connection as much as he had. “Now,” she whispers, stroking his hair back from his forehead. “I really do need to get back to work, darling.”

 

Theta scoffs. “I don’t think so. You’ve got another person in there to feed now.” He strokes his fingertips reverently over her belly and grins. “Good thing I brought a whole picnic.”

 

As he makes a dash for the basket on her desk, Melody falls back into the sofa cushions and groans.

 

-

 

These days, having company usually means entertaining Cardinals and dignitaries from the outlying lands. It means engaging in political discussion and diplomatic relations in the extravagant dining room of the President’s Mansion. While Melody does her best to make certain these dinners don’t drag on unnecessarily, Theta usually winds up contemplating shoving a fork into his own eye just to have an excuse to leave. 

 

Tonight, however, there are no boring and important visitors to the mansion. There is no political doublespeak or polite smiles concealing bared teeth. Tonight, there is only Theta having dinner with his wife and his best friend. He and Koschei share the wine between them, growing progressively more tipsy and inclined to laughter as the evening progresses. For her part, Melody eats most of the dessert and insists the baby has a craving for chocolate mousse. 

 

Warm from the inside out with good wine and good company, Theta kisses chocolate from the corner of her mouth and keeps one hand constantly resting on the curve of her belly. Now that she’s starting to show, it’s more difficult than ever to keep his hands off her. 

 

Reclining in her chair with her booted feet propped up on the table, Koschei gestures to them with her newly re-filled wine glass and says, “Well you’ve certainly managed to gain the favor of your adoring public. Though it’s hardly fair – poor old Rassy didn’t have the option of pushing out a wee adorable babe to endear himself to the people.”

 

Melody rolls her eyes, licking her spoon. “I hardly got pregnant to win some sort of popularity contest.”

 

“Whether you intended it or not, you’re _beloved_ now.” Koschei sticks out her tongue, scrunching up her face childishly. “It’s genius, really. Most every Time Lord who has taken this position had to work their arse off to gain any respect and all you’ve got to do is pop that thing out to cement your place in history.”

 

Scowling, Melody drops a hand to her stomach. “My daughter is not a thing and she’s certainly not a political strategy. I’ve worked just as hard as any man or woman who came before me.”

 

“No need to get your knickers in a bunch, poppet.” Koschei sips her wine noisily. “I’m complimenting you.” 

 

“Why do your compliments never actually sound like compliments?” Melody grumbles. Only Theta can see the relief in her eyes. They’d been hesitant to tell Koschei about the baby since they’d discovered upon their return that she had lost her wife and child in the war. Feeling resentful would have been a natural response but so far, Koschei has only expressed mild disinterest and occasionally, the teensiest bit of admiration for Melody’s keen timing in reproducing. 

 

Koschei wiggles her feet on the table, rumpling the crisp tablecloth. “Because you’re determined to see the worst in me?”

 

Melody arches an eyebrow. “Is there anything else to see?”

 

Pouting, Koschei rests a hand over her hearts in mock wounded agony.

 

Shaking his head, Theta steals a bite of Melody’s chocolate mousse and demands, “Be nice, both of you.”

 

They turn their heads in unison, staring at him as though he has two heads. “We are being nice,” Melody says, frowning. “Honestly, darling.”

 

Koschei snorts. “When did you become such a Sensitive Sally?”

 

With a twinkle in her eye, Melody confides, “I think it’s all the stress from healer training. Poor thing is at his wits end.”

 

“Some people just don’t have what it takes.” Koschei sips her wine demurely, smirking at Theta from across the table. “Maybe you should pick something more your speed, Doctor dear. Like gardening.”

 

With a sigh of resignation, Theta picks up his wine and sinks back into his chair. His wife and his best friend are never closer than when they set their aim on him. He might have complained if he didn’t prefer it to their bickering. “Well I had to find something to do while my wife saves the world instead of sitting at home like her kept pet.”

 

Melody winks at him. “You’d be ever so good at it. Remember that time on Magnus Epsilon?”

 

Though hardly inclined to blush these days, Theta clears his throat and tugs at his collar as he murmurs, “You enjoyed that far too much.”

 

Dropping her boots from the table, Koschei sets down her glass with enough force to send wine sloshing over the side. Lips pursed, she says, “Oh, shut up about your ickle field trip.”

 

Theta and Melody exchange puzzled glances. “What’s the matter?”

 

Koschei crosses her arms over her chest. “While you were off gallivanting round the universe, I’ve been stuck on this rock. We were _supposed_ to go together.” She sniffs daintily, lifting her chin. “Show a little respect.”

 

“You do realize you’re the one who sent us away?” Theta asks dryly. “It’s hardly our fault it took us so long to find our way back.”

 

“How did you find Gallifrey anyway?” Koschei tucks her fist under her chin and eyes him curiously. “You never said.”

 

He shrugs, glancing fondly at Melody. “Turns out my wife has a knack for uncovering buried treasure.”

 

Koschei rolls her eyes but otherwise ignores him, far too used to watching them moon at each other to mind anymore. “And what did you do for all that time without a TARDIS? No one could handle constantly hopping from one place to the next with a vortex manipulator for so long – not even you.”

 

“We found a little place to rest up between trips,” Melody admits, finally pushing aside the chocolate mousse and allowing Theta to finish it. He nicks her spoon and shoves a mouthful past his lips. “Really, it became sort of a home after a while.”

 

“Where?”

 

Melody smiles. “A little planet called Darillium.”

 

“Sounds dull.”

 

Their eyes meet briefly and Theta knows as his mind brushes hers that they’re both dwelling on their time spent on Darillium. A cozy little house on a planet that spent 24 years of every rotation covered in total darkness. What else was a couple who had never been able to take a honeymoon to do? He tugs at his collar again and hopes the sudden flush he feels is only in his head. 

 

“Well,” Melody says, licking chocolate from her fingers and clearly doing her best to keep Theta’s mind in the gutter. “We’ll be sure to leave you here next time we drop by for a visit.”

 

Koschei glares, eyes narrowed dangerously. “Abandon me again at your own risk, half blood.”

 

Melody blows her a kiss. “I knew you missed us.” 

 

Theta hides a smile in another bite of chocolate mousse, his hand resting against the swell of his wife’s belly.

 

-

 

“Tell me again why you need two houses?”

 

Theta glances up from his place on the floor of the nursery, a dusty rag in one hand and the other hand pressed against the side of his old cradle. He’d dragged it out of storage the day he’d learned Melody was pregnant but it had certainly seen its better days. In the months he’s been waiting to meet his child, restoring his cot has been a distracting project. 

 

Koschei sits on the other side of the room, surrounded by children’s books of both human and Gallifreyan origin. Melody had put her in charge of stocking the bookshelves in the nursery and up until now, Koschei has been unusually quiet. Even if she’d never admit it, Theta can’t help but suspect she must be thinking of her own lost child. It would be difficult not to in this half-finished nursery, surrounded by tiny clothes and stuffed animals and the scent of hope in the air. 

 

“Because,” Melody answers her, without turning from the meadow she’s been painstakingly painting on one wall since this morning. “I’m not always going to be Lady President or live in the presidential mansion. I want our child to have a real home they don’t have to worry about losing.”

 

Theta smiles at the back of her head, rather in love with seeing her protective streak directed somewhere besides him. Though he and his wife certainly have their differences of opinion about some things, they’d both agreed right away that the Citadel was no place to raise a child. They’d found a brilliant piece of land just on the edge of the forest and built a house there a lot like the one he’d imagined when they were teenagers dreaming of the future. 

 

“Besides,” he says, going back to buffing the cot to shine. “I’d rather the wee one wasn’t treated like a pawn in some political strategy. Or like ruddy Gallifreyan royalty.”

 

Koschei heaves a sigh, gesturing so erratically she topples a stack of books. _The Littlest Time Lord and the Lost Moon of Poosh_ skids across the floor and bumps Theta’s knee. “But she _is_ going to be Gallifreyan royalty. What’s the point of being in charge if you’re not going to get special treatment?”

 

“And that,” Melody says, putting the finishing touches on the mural, “is why they didn’t make _you_ President.”

 

Koschei pulls a face at her and goes back to sorting through the books. Over her bent head, Melody and Theta exchange a questioning glance. _Now?_

 

At Melody’s encouraging nod, Theta sets aside his polishing rag and wipes his hands on his trousers. He clears his throat but Koschei doesn’t look up, too busy muttering under her breath about letting their child read about some dull human called Harry Potter. 

 

“Kosch,” he begins hesitantly. “You know you’re…important to us.”

 

She glances up, startled. 

 

Theta squirms, as uncomfortable voicing his emotions as Koschei is hearing about them. In his head, he feels the warm brush of Melody’s mind against his – offering reassurance when he falters. “We want you to be just as important to this baby, if you’d like that too.”

 

Koschei offers no reply, head tilted as she watches him warily. 

 

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Theta sighs. “We’d like you to be her godmother, Kosch.”

 

She stares at him blankly for a long moment, and though there is no clear emotion shown in her face, her eyes give her away. Normally her gaze is chilly enough to make even the most embattled of Time Lords flinch but right now her eyes are slightly damp and filled with turmoil. For one brief moment, he can finally see just what it had cost her to lose her family. Some of that grief shines out of her eyes and for that brief span of time he can hardly bear to look at her. And then she blinks and it’s gone. 

 

Smiling – and he suspects it’s only a bit disingenuous – she says brightly, “Why, I’d be delighted to corrupt your little sprog.”

 

“Actually,” he says wryly, as though he hadn’t seen anything at all. “We were hoping more along the lines of being a confidante and possibly spoiling her behind our backs.”

 

“Yes, yes,” she waves him away. “And raising her myself if anything grisly happens to you two, of course.” She blinks innocently. “Not that I have any plans.”

 

Theta scowls. 

 

“Yet.”

 

-

 

Theta has never been so afraid in his life. With blood staining the sheets and Melody’s _white_ , _white_ face contorted in pain, he understands now the terror she must have felt when she thought she’d lost him in that factory explosion. It’s never been more clear to him why she had clung to him for days after, taking his hand or stroking his hair as though to reassure herself that he was still with her. 

 

He strokes her knee now, brushing his lips tenderly over her skin as she rests between contractions. “You’re doing brilliantly,” he promises. “We’re almost there.”

 

Melody shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “I can’t.”

 

“Yes, you can,” Theta murmurs, squeezing her knee. “You can.”

 

“You’d better,” Koschei snaps, grimacing. “I’m not going to have a crippled hand and nothing to show for it.”

 

Melody growls. “Go away then. I’d rather have Nardole anyway.”

 

“Well I’m afraid that’s impossible. He scarpered the last time you swore in Draconian and threw a vase at the wall.” Koschei smirks. “Looked a bit green, poor lamb.”

 

Groaning, Melody renews her white-knuckled grip on Koschei’s fingers. “Can I push now?”

 

“Not yet,” he says, grateful he’d finished his healer training and actually knows what he’s doing. Despite the protests of the entire Council, Melody had insisted she didn’t want any of the Presidential physicians present at the birth. “Just keep squeezing Koschei’s hand hard as you can, all right?”

 

Koschei glowers. 

 

His amusement at her distress fades the moment his gaze settles on Melody again. She looks defeated, tears in her eyes and her face flushed from the exertion of each contraction. He moves instantly from his place at the foot of the bed to sit at her side, gripping her other hand between both of his. “I know it hurts, sweetheart.”  

 

She whimpers and his hearts pinch. 

 

“Come here,” he murmurs, pushing her sweat damp curls from her face. Melody watches him, her eyes glazed over with pain but still holding that unshakable trust in him. Theta cups her face in his hands and bends down, pressing his forehead to hers. Melody sinks into his mind eagerly, desperate to escape the pain if only for a moment.

 

He conjures the meadow for them, the grass damp with dew beneath their feet and the rising suns warming their faces. Birdsong can be heard from the trees in the distance and a soft, warm breeze ruffles their hair. Safely cocooned in the peaceful quiet of his thoughts, Melody draws in a breath free of the terrified agony that has been hers for hours on end. 

 

Theta wraps her in his arms and holds her close, ducking his head to murmur in her ear. “Better?”

 

She nods, burying her face in the collar of his shirt. “Can we just stay here?”

 

He laughs softly. “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now but I promise the real world is about to be infinitely better.”

 

Melody lifts her head, her wet eyes finding his. “I don’t think I can do it.”

 

“Course you can,” he says, stroking his thumb over her cheek. “You can do anything. You once stole the Headmaster’s TARDIS. You annihilated an entire fleet of Daleks. You saved Gallifrey from certain destruction and then you found it again when we thought it was lost. You’re leading its people toward a time of unparalleled peace. You’ve put up with _me_ for hundreds of years.” He presses a tender, lingering kiss to the corner of her trembling mouth. “You can bring our child into this world. I know you can.”

 

She breathes in again, gripping his shirt tightly in her fists. “All right,” she whispers. “Let’s meet our baby.”

 

“That’s my girl.” 

 

He gives her one last kiss and nudges her carefully from his mind. When his eyes open, he’s sitting at her bedside and Melody is breathing hard through another contraction. “I need to push,” she says, gritting her teeth. “Please let me push.”

 

“Hang on.” He kisses her fingers and scrambles from her side, back to his post at the foot of the bed. “Let me just check-”

 

“ _Theta_?”

 

At her desperate cry, he nods, steeling himself. “Push. Now.”

 

Melody pushes until the contraction passes, collapsing back against her pillows breathing hard. “You’re brilliant,” Theta says, watching grimly as she cries out, already in the throes of the next one. “Now do it again.”

 

They go on like that for what seems like hours – Melody crying out as she pushes their child into the world, Theta coaching her from his place between her legs, and Koschei swearing in every language she can think of as Melody crushes the bones in her hand. Theta’s world narrows to include only Melody and the slowly emerging head of their little one. 

 

_Push, rest, repeat._

 

_Push, rest, repeat._

 

And then – 

 

_\- silence_ as their daughter slides out of her mother and into his waiting arms. Theta’s hand shakes as he clears her mouth and his hearts swell twice their size in his chest as her tiny, wailing cry fills the home they’ve made for themselves. He laughs, looking into her little face and knowing deep in his bones that this is the very same little girl the Moment had manifested as all those years ago. At last, she’s real. 

 

“Hello,” he says, his voice filled with wonder. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

 

Melody watches him with a weary, proud smile. “She’s all right? All ten fingers and ten toes? Two hearts?”

 

Theta nods with a wide grin, holding the babe out to her with careful hands. “See for yourself.”

 

As if renewed in strength just at the sight of her child, Melody cradles the little one in her arms and peers down at her with a beaming grin. She touches gentle fingertips to the fuzzy blonde hair on top of their daughter’s head and then her sweet button nose and petal pink lips. “Look at her,” she whispers, her eyes wide and soft. “She’s perfect.”

 

Beside her, eyeing the babe from a distance warily, even Koschei admits, “She’s… surprisingly cute considering she’s half yours.”

 

Melody doesn’t even react, too caught up in the wonder of her new child. “Darling, she has your chin.”

 

Theta leans in to inspect her tiny chin for himself, barely registering the moment Koschei slips out muttering about going to find Nardole. As they’re left alone as a family for the first time, he settles onto the edge of the bed and stretches his arm around Melody’s shoulders. Cupping his hand around the back of their daughter’s head, he kisses Melody’s temple and says, “You did it.”

 

She hums, leaning into him without taking her eyes from the babe in her arms. “I did, didn’t I?”

 

He smiles. “I told you – you can do anything.”

 

“Thank you, sweetie.” Melody turns her head, her eyes glittering with warmth as she meets his gaze. “But I couldn’t have done this without you.” She crinkles her nose and admits teasingly, “And I don’t mean only the fun part.”

 

He laughs softly and ducks his head, kissing her soundly. They sink into each other in passion and reassurance, in the giddiness of their brand new family and the wonder of all that lies ahead. Only their squirming babe pulls them away from each other, turning as one to watch with awe as their little one waves a tiny fist in the air. 

 

“She still needs a name,” Melody says, capturing the tiny fist in her fingers. “What do you think?”

 

Theta studies their daughter’s small face – her chubby cheeks and fluttering lashes, the blonde hair that will no doubt grow to be as wild and untamable as Melody’s some day. “What was your mother’s name?”

 

Melody frowns. “Ameliatracolixpond.” She traces a fingertip down their daughter’s soft cheek. “It was a mouthful for my human father. He always called her Amy or Amelia.”

 

“I like it,” Theta says, gazing down at their little one. “Amelia Pond.”

 

“Pond?” Melody glances at him uncertainly. “Really?” 

 

He shrugs. “Well, you didn’t take my name. And your father took your mother’s, didn’t he? What do you say we carry on the tradition?”

 

“My sentimental idiot,” she whispers, kissing him softly. “I’d like that.”

 

Her beaming smile shines down on their little Amelia like the sun.


	6. beatitude: way beyond the stars was a dream there waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theta had read the file on Melody’s datapad last night. The ship had been pulled from general service years ago, decommissioned and put away in storage. Forgotten. The Chameleon Circuit has been broken beyond repair, stuck forever in the form of a London Police Box. The blue paint has faded considerably, peeling away in some places. No one has thought about this ship in a very long time. No one will miss it when it’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which an old friend makes an appearance, the Doctor goes blonde, and there's still a lot of running left to do. 
> 
> Chapter title from You by Great Big World.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161648709@N02/46249019911/in/dateposted-public/)

* * *

 

Despite Theta’s general dislike – nay, _scorn_ – for the Gallifreyan government as a whole, the sight of Melody in her Presidential uniform never fails to make his blood run hot in his veins. He stares at her as she moves around the kitchen preparing tea, a last minute contribution to breakfast before she heads off to some boring Cabinet meeting, admiring her form in the scarlet robes. 

 

The roomy garments tend to hang on everyone else like an unsightly pillowcase but somehow, Melody’s clothes cling to her in all the right places, flowing over her curves like water trickling over bare skin. He doesn’t know how she does it. He suspects witchcraft. Somehow, despite looking sexy enough to stir his blood even at this early hour, she still manages to look like nobility – regal and refined and untouchable. 

 

Except he can touch and he does – _often_. 

 

Barely taking notice of his breakfast, he admires the way the soft red glow of the rising suns shining through the windows sets her hair aflame. Coupled with the scarlet of her robes, she looks like some beautiful, vengeful goddess beset upon the people to pass judgment in the form of fire and brimstone. Even with a toddler on her hip, she cuts quite the formidable figure. 

 

She moves closer to the breakfast table, the kettle in one hand and a sleepy little girl on her shoulder. She sets the hot water down on the table and Theta grasps the opportunity to have her near with both hands. He snakes an arm around her waist and tugs, grinning when she lands right on his lap. 

 

“You know,” she says, enduring his wandering hands and his mouth nipping at her ear. “There are other ways to get my attention.”

 

“That may be so,” he admits, silently victorious when he feels her shudder under his hands and lean into him. “But not nearly as fun for either of us.”

 

Melody sighs, smiling against his cheek. “Honestly darling, there are children present.”

 

“That’s never stopped you before. Besides, just one of them can see us at the moment.” One of his hands falls to rest against her rounded belly and the other moves to tickle the back of his daughter’s neck. At the sound of Amelia’s surprised giggle, he says wryly, “And she’s definitely heard worse.”

 

“You’re incorrigible.” Melody turns her head and kisses him, her mouth soft and open under his just long enough to set fire to the embers burning just under his skin. She sighs against his lips, her chest pressed enticingly into his and her small, capable hand resting against the scruff of his cheek. 

 

Just as Theta is inching his fingers into her hair, she pulls away. He frowns, eyes still glued to her mouth. “And you’re a tease.”

 

She hums, looking pleased with herself. “You love that about me.”

 

“I love everything about you,” he reminds her, still a bit grumpy. “Except your nauseatingly incorruptible work ethic.”

 

Laughing softly, Melody slips off his lap and shifts Amelia on her hip. “Sorry, darling, but Lady Presidents rarely get a day off.” She winces, pressing her palm to her side, and he knows the baby must be kicking again. “And when we do, our husbands tend to knock us up.”

 

He eyes her growing stomach with warring expressions of fondness and smug pride. “You’re welcome.”

 

“Idiot,” she says, still smiling. She presses a quick succession of smacking kisses to Amelia’s cheek while the girl giggles and squirms to get away before finally depositing her on Theta’s lap. “Eat all your breakfast and look after Daddy, darling.”

 

Amelia nods, apparently taking her job as his minder seriously. “Bye Mummy.”

 

Melody leans in and presses another kiss to the top of her mop of fine blond curls. “See you at lunch, all right?” She turns her head and brushes her mouth teasingly against Theta’s, smirking when he tries to follow her as she pulls away. “Hold onto those naughty thoughts, hmm?”

 

As she turns and walks away, red robes trailing behind her and curls bouncing, Theta swallows hard. _Witchcraft_. He’s absolutely sure of it. 

 

-

 

“Daddy, will I have to go to the Academy?”

 

Theta glances up from arranging the blankets around his daughter, startled to find Amelia’s worried blue eyes fixed on him. Determining quickly that this will not be a simple question to answer, he tugs the blankets around her chin and settles onto the edge of her bed. “Yes, eventually.”

 

She frowns, twirling a blonde curl around her fingertip. “Why?”

 

“Because,” he says, finding her knee over the blankets and squeezing gently. She squirms, ever ticklish. “The Academy is where all little Time Tots such as yourself grow up to be Time Lords and Ladies.”

 

Amelia curls into a ball on her side, peering up at him through her lashes with enough concern to wrench at his hearts. “But I’ll have to leave you and Mummy and William.”

 

“Only for a little while,” he soothes. “Mummy, Bill, and I will be here every summer and every holiday when you come home. And if you’re anything like your mother, you’ll make so many friends there and get into so many shenanigans that you’ll forget to miss us.”

 

His little Amelia looks skeptical of such an occurrence but seems to accept it anyway. She fiddles with the edge of her quilt and asks, “The Academy is where you met Mummy, isn’t it?”

 

“Not quite,” he admits, brushing back her hair. “I met her at the initiation when we were eight years old.”

 

Her head lifts at that, her blue eyes filled with worry all over again. “So it’s true?” 

 

“What?”

 

“Aunt Koschei said I’d have to look into the Time Vortex or I won’t be allowed into the Academy.” Her expression grows petulant and she says, “I thought she was just trying to be funny again.”

 

Theta stifles a snort and shakes his head. “No, poppet, I’m afraid she was right.”

 

Amelia bites her lip. “And… she said some people go mad.”

 

“Well, I suppose that’s true too.” Theta sighs, silently making a mental note to find Koschei at the earliest opportunity and discuss what is and is not appropriate to tell a five year old girl. “But that all depends on what you see when you look into the vortex.”

 

Scrambling to sit up, Amelia draws her knees to her chest and hugs her arms around them. Eager for some hint of what’s to come, she asks breathlessly, “What did _you_ see, Daddy?”

 

Theta hesitates for a moment, debating just how much information might scare her versus how much might soothe her fears and get her to stop worrying. In the end, he decides any child of his – quite frankly any child who spends so much time around Koschei – can handle the truth. “Everything,” he finally admits, and the notion of it makes him shudder even now. “Every death, every life. Every mistake, every miracle. All of time and space. The history of the universe in the blink of an eye.”

 

His daughter, far too clever by halves, looks horrified. “Will I see that too?”

 

“Maybe.” He reaches out a hand and tugs on a curl, offering her a reassuring smile. “Maybe not. Your Mummy saw possibility. It gave her hope.”

 

The fear in her eyes lessens just a bit and Amelia latches onto his hand with small, delicate fingers. “Were you scared, Daddy?”

 

“Oh yes,” he confesses gravely. “Terrified. In fact, I ran away.”

 

Her eyes widen. “You did?”

 

He nods, peering into her curious little face with a soft smile. “That’s when I met your Mummy. She was very brave, even then.” He squeezes her fingers gently. “She held my hand until I wasn’t scared anymore.”

 

Amelia beams, all insecurity fading as she declares, “Mummy’s not scared of anything.”

 

She speaks of her mother with the confidence and awe usually reserved for discussing superheroes or deities. Theta smiles but doesn’t have the hearts to tell her Melody Pond fears many things. She still wakes from nightmares of Kovarian, reaching out to him and seeking comfort. Ever since the War, she has feared losing Theta. She worries, as all mothers do, that something will happen to her children. And unlike most, she has the weight of all of Gallifrey on her shoulders and countless civilians trusting her to keep them safe. She fears letting them down perhaps most of all. 

 

These are all things Amelia will understand when she’s older so for now, Theta only kisses her head and says, “I have no doubt you’ll be just like her. But you needn’t worry about all that now. You’ve got lots of time.”

 

He ushers her back beneath the blankets and tucks her in again, watching her snuggle into her pillow. “Do I still get a story?”

 

“All that and still a story?” He heaves a sigh dramatic enough to make her laugh, smiling despite himself. “Did you know the only reason your Aunt Koschei knows that some people go mad when they look into the vortex is because she nearly did herself?”

 

Amelia’s eyes grow wide. “Really?”

 

He nods sagely. “And do you know who saved her?”

 

She shakes her head, hanging on his every word. 

 

Theta grins. “Your Mummy.”

 

Bouncing in place, Amelia begs, “Tell me, tell me!”

 

“Well,” he begins, settling in again. “When your Aunt Koschei was just a lad…”

 

When the story is through and Amelia has fallen asleep with her head filled with questions she simply must ask Aunt Koschei in the morning, Theta turns out the light and slips from her room. Across the hall, the door to Bill’s nursery is open and he sees Melody standing at his cot, bathed in the nightlight of stars scattered across the walls and ceiling. 

 

Tiptoeing in, he walks up behind his wife and wraps his arms snugly around her waist. Melody doesn’t jump, leaning back into his chest instead. Theta nudges a few unruly curls out of his way with his nose before resting his chin on her shoulder. Peering down at his sleeping son, he feels his chest swell and expand with unfettered adoration. William sleeps soundly on his back, his chubby cheeks flushed with sleep and his dark hair falling over his forehead. When open, his eyes are identical to those of his mother. 

 

He squirms in his sleep and one chunky, toddler-sized leg peeks out from beneath the blanket. Theta bravely resists the urge to reach out and pinch it fondly. He has no idea what Melody’s father looked like at this age but he likes to imagine the boy looks a little something like his namesake. Though more and more these days, he’s beginning to look an awful lot like Theta’s last regeneration – floppy hair and clumsy feet included. 

 

“Did you ever think we’d have this?” Melody asks quietly, eyes still fastened on their son. 

 

Theta strokes his fingertips over her hip. “Which part? A home? A family? Peace?”

 

She sighs. “All of it.”

 

“I hoped,” he whispers, something about the dark nursery and the closeness of two people he loves beyond measure making him honest. “But for a while, during the War...no. I didn’t.”

 

“Neither did I.” Melody turns her head and he kisses her cheek softly, his hearts beating calm and steady in his chest. For a moment they simply hold each other, swaying back and forth under Bill’s nightlight of stars. “When was the last time we kissed under real stars?”

 

He nuzzles into her hair and hums quietly, thinking. “Not since our last trip to Calderon Beta.”

 

“Do you regret it?” She asks, reaching a hand behind her to cup the back of his neck. “Coming back here and settling down?”

 

Theta shakes his head before she’s even through speaking, thinking of the home filled with love and warmth and kindness they’ve built together, of Melody in his arms now and an insatiably curious little girl fast asleep across the hall. In his sleep, Bill curls his pudgy hand into a fist and tucks his thumb into his mouth. Theta stares at him, suddenly too full of gratitude to breathe. 

 

“Theta?”

 

“Never.” He presses a firm kiss to her temple. “It may not be the dangerous, exciting life we used to have but it’s an adventure just the same. And I wouldn’t trade it for any amount of stars in the sky.”

 

“You old sap,” Melody murmurs, and he hears the smile in her voice. “That’s how I feel too.”

 

“Besides,” he says, hiding a grin in her hair. “I have a feeling we’re not through running just yet.”

 

-

 

While Theta can list with aplomb all of his wife’s very fine qualities – she’s clever and quick-witted, devious and kind, daring and gorgeous, an excellent dancer and a talented poker player, a wonderful mother and the best wife in the universe – he can say with absolute certainty that patience is not one of those attributes. As he leads her along by the hand through the Citadel under cover of darkness, she sighs loudly enough to alert anyone with a few miles of them to their presence. 

 

When he glances at her in silent reproach, Melody frowns in reply. “Can’t you at least tell me where we’re going?”

 

He grimaces when she doesn’t even make an effort to be quiet. He half expects a Chancellery Guard to come out of hiding and demand to know what they’re doing here in the middle of the night before he remembers the benefit of having the Lady President for a wife. No one will dare question their whereabouts or try to stop them. He lowers his voice just in case. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise any longer.”

 

“And whoever said I wanted to be surprised?” She grumbles. “Do you like surprises?”

 

“Of course,” he lies.

 

“Liar.”

 

He bites back a sigh, slowing to a stop and turning to face her. Her hands clasped between his, he says, “Dear, we’ve left our little moppets with the nanny and we’re skulking about the Citadel in the middle of the night like spontaneous, child-free newlyweds. It’s romantic.” Theta brings her hands up to his lips, kissing her knuckles and watching her soften considerably under his attentions. “Try to enjoy it.”

 

Melody bites her lip, clearly hiding a smile. He can see that she has given in to whatever barmy plan he has concocted for the night but she only says, “Don’t call Nardole the nanny.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because he hates it.”

 

“Even better.”

 

“Theta-”

 

“Hush.” 

 

“Why should I?”

 

He strokes his thumb over her cheek, smiling. “Because we’re here.”

 

She turns in his grasp, staring at the place where he’d brought her, and raises an eyebrow. “A storage facility? Darling, when you said you wanted to take me out, I assumed you meant dinner.”

 

He scoffs. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t marry someone that boring?”

 

She shakes her head, smiling despite her skepticism. “Every day, sweetie. Now what are we doing here?”

 

“It’s still a surprise,” he says, stooping to pick the lock on the door. “Just let me-”

 

Melody dangles a key in front of his face and when he looks up, she’s smirking. “Master key. Perk of being President.”

 

He takes it from her, getting back to his feet and shoving the key into the lock. “You just carry this thing around with you?”

 

She shrugs. “A girl never knows when she might need to do a little breaking and entering.” She bumps her hip playfully against his as he pushes open the door. “Especially with you for a husband.”

 

“Pot, kettle,” he murmurs fondly. 

 

As they step into the room, the lights overhead flicker on automatically. The vast room is littered with long forgotten junk, heavy sheets covering everything to keep the dust away. Melody moves from his side to explore, peering under coverings and muttering under her breath about preserving historical artifacts. Normally, Theta might have made his usual joke about how she must have been an archaeologist in some other life but his mind is otherwise occupied. 

 

Their footsteps echo as they walk but Theta barely notices, scanning the room for a sheet-draped object that looks the right size. He knows it’s here – he’d searched the databanks tirelessly using Melody’s government issued datapad when she was asleep. 

 

He finally spots it wedged between a rusted service cart and a stack of boxes labeled _spare dematerialization circuits_. Theta approaches it slowly, unable to understand the way his hearts pound madly in his chest. His hand shakes as he moves to yank away the sheet, dust swirling around him and making his eyes water. He drops the sheet to the floor and stares, an inexplicable lump in his throat. 

 

Even Melody, previously engrossed in a stack of aging documents with Rassilon’s Seal all over them, stops what she’s doing to join him. She wears the same slightly awed expression, her shoulder brushing his as she stares at the old ship in front of them. “Is that-”

 

He swallows. “Yeah.”

 

A Type 40 TARDIS isn’t exactly easy to come by anymore. For one thing, they’re outdated and have long since been replaced by newer, more advanced models. Many had been destroyed by the Daleks in the War and those that had survived had been placed in museums or purchased as collector’s items by Gallifrey’s elite. All but this one. 

 

Theta had read the file on Melody’s datapad last night. The ship had been pulled from general service years ago, decommissioned and put away in storage. Forgotten. The Chameleon Circuit has been broken beyond repair, stuck forever in the form of a London Police Box. The blue paint has faded considerably, peeling away in some places. No one has thought about this ship in a very long time. No one will miss it when it’s gone. 

 

The feeling of kinship welling up within him doesn’t make any sense. Nor do the words that tumble out of his mouth unthinkingly. “Hello again.”

 

Melody glances at him, her eyes soft and curious. “You know her?”

 

He shakes his head, unable to put into words the sense of ownership or the moment he had pulled the sheet away and simply thought _it’s good to see you, old friend_. He knows this ship. Maybe not in this universe but surely in another. He couldn’t explain it even if Melody asked him to. 

 

Thankfully, she doesn’t. She simply brushes her shoulder against his again and whispers, “She’s beautiful.”

 

“She is,” he agrees, and takes a step forward. He strokes his fingertips over the worn blue paint and the door gives way easily beneath his touch. He grins. “And look, she’s unlocked.”

 

Melody smiles and he loves the look in her eyes – the breathless possibility of adventure glittering in their depths. He always feels it in his hearts but in moments such as these, he knows with all the confidence in the universe that this woman was meant for him in every way. “Where are we going?”

 

“Well,” he says, taking her hand and tugging her inside with him. “You mentioned dinner. Let’s start with that.”

 

He takes her to Grotta Palazzese in Italy sometime during the 23 rd century. They sip wine and share a plate of oysters, playing footsie beneath the table. The crashing of the waves against stone is loud enough to keep their intimate conversation private and they flirt like they’re still in their first century, sharing lingering kisses between bites of cheesecake. 

 

After dinner, they go dancing at the coronation of Queen Victoria. They drink champagne with royalty and when Melody drinks far too much and drags him into the Queen’s chambers, Theta is helpless to resist her wiles. Of course, they’re interrupted before they’re through and flee to the TARDIS half-dressed and laughing madly, barely escaping the angry guards chasing them. It feels just like old times as they stumble through the doors of their ship already tangled up in each other. Hands grasping at sweaty skin and breath hot between them, they stagger away from the doors and leave a trail of clothes in their wake. 

 

Mouthing at her throat, Theta presses his wife against the console and lifts her onto it. Melody sighs in his ear, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. As his hands move lower, shifting up her chemise, she grapples behind her for purchase on the controls. Her chest heaves and she moves her hips against him, letting him feel just how ready she is. He groans into her shoulder, sinking his teeth into her skin. 

 

Melody whimpers, her hands threading through his hair and gripping tight. “Darling, please-” Her breath catches when he draws a line up her throat with his tongue and he feels her mind brush his, dizzy with need. “Want you. Now.”

 

He smirks and murmurs against her skin, “I serve at the pleasure of my Lady President.”

 

For tonight, they pretend they don’t have two children to come home to and an entire planet to run. They’re merely two adventurers roaming the universe; a husband and wife as smitten as they’d been the moment they met; soulmates communing in hearts and mind and body. Around them, the TARDIS hums and time itself stills.

 

Afterwards, they lie entwined on the floor. His coat around her shoulders, Melody rests her head on his chest. Theta strokes his fingers through her tangled curls, still trying to catch his breath. His wife is quiet on top of him, her eyes fluttering closed every so often, as though fighting off sleep. 

 

He kisses her temple. “What are you thinking?”

 

She turns her head, pressing her lips to his chest languidly. Her voice is hoarse enough to make him smug as she replies, “I’m thinking I’d like some tea.”

 

Theta grins at the TARDIS lights overhead. “Me too.”

 

They stop off in 21st Century Earth for tea and scones at a café, settling into a cozy corner beside a window. Melody wears her wrinkled chemise beneath his coat and he abandons his cravat and keeps his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, shoving his gray hair out of his face every time it droops over his forehead – rumpled from Melody running her fingers through it. It’s a rainy afternoon and they drink cup after cup, talking quietly in the unassuming little café in Oxford. 

 

“So…” Theta grips her hand in his across the table, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “Good surprise?”

 

“You never disappoint, darling.” Melody winks, sipping from her cup of chamomile. She’d done her best to tame her hair but there’s certainly no hiding she’s been very recently shagged. He tries not to let his delight show in his face and fails entirely. “In fact, we should do this more often.”

 

“That’s a promise, Melody Pond.” He glances out the rain-spattered window, eyeing the TARDIS parked across the street. “Shall we keep her then?”

 

She glances across the street, watching the TARDIS with him, and he can see the same unexplainable familiarity in her eyes. “I like traveling with you, Theta. You know I do. Almost nothing else makes me happier.” She bites her lip, turning troubled eyes to him. “We just have to be careful, darling. It’s not only ourselves we have to worry about now. We have children at home counting on us to return safely. And I have an entire planet trusting that I’m going to be there to lead them in the morning.”

 

“I know.” Theta reaches across the table and takes her hand in his, lifting it to press a reverent kiss to her palm. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll be safe.”

 

-

 

She’s _young_. More interestingly, she’s a _she_. 

 

Theta stares at the strange new reflection in the mirror and tries to reconcile it as her own though it’s hard to concentrate on much of anything with Melody pacing so furiously in the background. “I can’t believe you,” she seethes, throwing a glare over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, you said. It’ll be safe, you said. Let’s go to Clom, you said.”

 

“Melody-”

 

“Let’s see what this big red button does, you said.” Melody whirls, curls bouncing and eyes glittering with a fury Theta rarely sees from her but always dreads. When properly furious, Melody is definitely a sight to behold, but Theta always worries it’s a sight she won’t behold for long – certain her demise at the hands of an angry wife must be imminent. “And now look at you. A brand new body we have no way to explain because we weren’t supposed to have a TARDIS in the first place.”

 

Biting her lip, Theta studies the short blonde hair framing her new face. She’s never been blonde before and she finds that she likes it, mostly because now she matches Melody and Amelia. She lifts a hand to push her hair behind her ears and startles herself, tilting her head to study these unfamiliar fingers. Her hands are much smaller now and she worries briefly how Melody will feel about that. She’ll just have to work extra hard to make sure her wife has nothing to complain about. 

 

Her eyes are bigger now too, wide and curious but kind. She looks brand new – as though the Time War has never touched her. Gone are the wise blue eyes and the serious brows of her last face. No more gray hair or lines of age to tell stories of a life well lived. Theta touches her fingertips to a youthful, rosy cheek and considers the possibility of aging up just a bit –

 

“Are you even listening to me?”

 

“Hmm?” Theta blinks, glancing up and meeting her wife’s eyes through the mirror. It’s only then that she really looks at Melody rather than just distantly hearing the angry murmur of her voice. Her face is still ashen, her eyes wet and rimmed red. Her hands tremble as she wraps her arms around her middle in that familiar gesture that lets Theta know her wife is feeling particularly vulnerable. “Sweetheart, you’re the President. I don’t think anyone will mind that you took an old TARDIS for a joyride.”

 

Melody sets her jaw, looking away. 

 

Theta feels her stomach drop. “Are you really that upset about the new face?”

 

Eyes snapping back to Theta, Melody stares at her, nostrils flaring. Far too late to do anything about it, Theta realizes with equal parts relief and unease that she has apparently insulted her wife. “Of course I’m not upset about -” She growls, dropping her arms to her sides. “How is it you get a brand new body but the same idiot brain every time?”

 

“Oi!” 

 

Theta frowns, crossing her arms over her chest. She glances down at said chest briefly, lifting an eyebrow. Well, that’s different. She resists the urge to peer down her shirt but has a hard time ignoring the golden buzz of energy still surging through her veins. Everything is still so new and sensitive. She wonders if Melody would be in the mood to indulge her in a bit of exploration. The best part of regenerating is discovering what she likes now – and who knows better what she likes than Melody?

 

Wait, no. _Focus_. She can already tell this body is going to have trouble concentrating – like an excitable pup with too many squirrels to chase. Theta glances up again, determined to pay attention. The moment she sees Melody, the urge to grab her and tumble into bed fades. The look on her face is familiar but it takes Theta a moment to place it. 

 

The first time she’d regenerated, Melody had looked at her just like that. It had taken her a few minutes to understand that Melody wasn’t really angry – she was scared. As the realization settles over her, Theta tries a timid smile. “It’s still me, you know.”

 

“Of course I know.” Melody doesn’t approach her, doesn’t offer a crushing embrace or tearful kiss the way she’d done before. She stands on the other side of their bedroom and watches Theta with watery eyes, her spine stiff and her whole frame rigid with tension that Theta doesn't understand. 

 

Theta feels overwhelmed with the need to reach out and hold her but she refrains, not knowing if it would be welcome yet. Melody still looks closed off, hugging herself the way she must have done when she was a child and there was no one to comfort her. It always pains Theta to see her do it now.  “Melody,” she says softly. “Talk to me.”

 

She watches in silence as Melody appears to wrestle with herself, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. Finally, she drops her arms to her sides and sinks down onto the edge of their bed. She seems to fold in on herself, hands clasped in her lap and her head bowed. Her curls slip into her eyes and hide her face from Theta’s scrutinizing gaze. “You’re ahead of me by two bodies now.”

 

Theta frowns, shifting in her chair at Melody’s vanity – the first place she’d gone when they’d arrived back, to study her new face. “Are you keeping count? It’s not a contest, Melody.”

 

“I know that,” she snaps, lifting her head briefly to glare at Theta. “But if it were, you’d certainly be winning.”

 

Theta rises from her chair and crosses the room. It takes her a little longer than it used to and she doesn’t know yet how she feels about these shorter legs. She’s smaller than Melody now and it irks her. She likes being the taller of the two of them, likes feeling capable of towering over her enemies and protecting her wife. Not that Melody needs protecting but – 

 

Right. Focus. 

 

She settles onto the edge of the bed beside Melody but keeps her hands to herself, still feeling unsure with this strange tension between them. She waits patiently for Melody to look at her before she asks, “What is this really about, eh?”

 

Melody presses her lips together, eyeing her in silence for a long moment. When she finally admits what’s troubling her, she says it so quietly Theta almost misses it. “We’re supposed to go together.” 

 

Theta stares at her. “What do you mean?”

 

Taking a breath, Melody glances away. “If you’re several regenerations ahead of me and I don’t catch up, then one day you’ll run out of bodies and I’ll still have some left. And that means-” She stops, swallowing painfully. 

 

Catching sight of her trembling hands, Theta finally closes the distance between them. She cradles Melody’s hands in her own, tangling their fingers together. It’s their first real touch since she regenerated and it’s no less electric than always. And it’s with no small amount of pleasure that she notices somehow their hands still fit together like they’re meant to be. No matter her body, it seems Melody Pond is always hers. 

 

When she still doesn’t finish, Theta prods gently, “What, honey?”

 

Melody shuts her eyes. “It means there will come a day I’ll have to live without you.” Her breath hitches and she presses trembling lips together. “Nothing in the universe terrifies me more.”

 

“Oh.” Theta crumples, closing the last remaining space between them by cupping Melody’s face between her hands. She presses her forehead to her wife’s, letting Melody feel her unshakable faith in the certainty of _them_. A pair, always, throughout all of time and space. Never to be torn asunder. “Sweetheart, that’s never going to happen.”

 

“Theta-”

 

“No, I mean it.” Theta blinks open her eyes, stroking Melody’s cheek. “We’ve been together since we were eight years old. Do you really think I’ll let anythin’ separate us now?”

 

Melody sighs, her features softening. “I don’t think you’ll have much say in the matter, darling.”

 

Theta scoffs. “Course I will.”

 

Staring at her incredulously, Melody asks, “How?”

 

“I’ll just-” Theta waves a hand, floundering for a moment in indecision. “Refuse to die, that’s all.” At Melody’s short burst of laughter, she frowns and straightens, tugging at her lapels. The coat is far too big on her now, the sleeves falling untidily over her slim wrists, but a wardrobe change will have to wait. “Oi, I’m serious. I’ll hold onto my last body for two thousand years if I have to. I’ll wait for you, Melody Pond.”

 

Melody shakes her head in exasperation but there’s a soft smile curling her mouth and in it, Theta sees affection and surrender in equal measure. “Together then?”

 

Nodding, Theta insists, “Or not at all.”

 

At last, Melody sinks into her embrace without fear. Theta trembles in relief, turning her head and blindly seeking out and finding the warmth of Melody’s mouth. She moans softly, her fingers raking through Theta’s blonde hair and pressing herself closer as she tastes the tang of regeneration energy still on her tongue. Lips still devouring her, Melody mumbles, “Gods, you taste good.”

 

Theta whimpers at the husky confession, clinging to her wife as Melody ducks her head and plants open-mouthed kisses along her skin, tasting her eagerly. “So,” she says, panting. “You like the new face?”

 

To her great unhappiness, Melody pulls away and lifts her head from her task. Lips swollen and utterly kissable, she hums softly and presses her palms to Theta’s cheeks. “The face is lovely, darling,” she says, and her eyes begin to roam mischievously. “But let’s see about the rest of you, hmm?”

 

They collapse onto their backs tangled together, giggling against each other’s mouths as they pull at their clothes eagerly. Melody kisses her like she’s starving and only the taste of Theta will do, her hands pushing up Theta’s shirt and her nails scraping sensually along her spine. Theta arches against her, moaning softly. “Melody, please-”

 

“Mummy?”

 

They both startle apart at the sound of a voice in the doorway, turning their heads to find Bill standing there in his pajamas, rubbing at his eyes with a yawn. Melody sits up, shifting her riotous curls out of her eyes and adjusting her unbuttoned blouse over her chest. “Darling,” she says, pasting on a smile. “What are you doing out of bed?”

 

Theta stares at her adoringly, silently admiring her flushed cheeks and the sparkle of desire still lingering in her eyes. She’d done that. No matter how many times she sees how much her wife wants her, it never fails to make her feel like a giddy school boy. Well, schoolgirl now. She frowns. Pronouns are terribly tricky. 

 

“Thirsty,” Bill replies, his eyes glued to Theta. “Where’s Daddy?”

 

Theta sits up, smoothing back her rumpled hair and smiling tentatively. “It’s me, sweetheart. I’ve just changed my face is all.”

 

Bill lights up, his green eyes growing wide. “Like Layia’s mummy?”

 

Nodding eagerly, Theta says, “Exactly like that. Come and have a look, yeah?”

 

Approaching cautiously, Bill toddles up to their bed on legs that grow steadier by the day. Theta scoops him up and cuddles him to her chest, allowing her son to poke at her cheek and tug at her hair. He peers into her face, studying her solemnly. “Were you sick too?”

 

Theta shakes her head, settling him on her lap, and meets Melody’s gaze over his head. “No, I was injured. So my body changed to make me better.”

 

He bites his lip, twirling a lock of her hair around his fingertip. “Did it hurt?”

 

“A bit,” she admits, not wanting to lie to him. “But after, I felt brand new again.”

 

Bill smiles. “You look pretty, Daddy.”

 

Theta laughs, glancing at Melody again to find her smiling too. “Thank you, little man. What a lovely thing to say.”

 

With a sigh, Bill snuggles into her side. “I can’t wait to regenerate.”

 

“Oi, none of that.” Theta frowns, hugging him close as a knot of dread tightens her stomach. She suddenly understands how Melody must feel, imagining her sweet little tyke injured enough to change. “Not for a long time yet. We love this face far too much, don’t we Mummy?”

 

“Absolutely,” Melody agrees, hiding a smile. “It’s far too handsome to get rid of just yet.”

 

“Yeah,” their little one agrees smugly, grinning. 

 

With an amused glance at each other, they sandwich Bill between them and duck their heads, scattering kisses over his little face until he giggles and squirms in their embrace. Theta listens to her son laugh and watches him clamber into Melody’s arms, a warm glow emanating from her chest – right between her hearts. She may not have come back as she’d been before but she’s starting to realize the important thing has never been what face she wears. The important thing is that she always comes back. 

 

-

 

As far as godmothers go, Koschei is a bit...unconventional. 

 

She’s far less likely to tell the kids fairytales and sneak them candy as she is to whisper terrifying stories right before bed or slip them potentially dangerous gadgets she’d stolen from the Citadel’s armory. She’s also prone to jealousy whenever the children mention their Uncle Brax and though she’ll never admit it, Theta is absolutely certain Koschei has contemplated offing poor Brax just to eliminate the competition. 

 

She watches her best friend aim a pointy stick at her eldest daughter, challenging her to some sort of duel, and shakes her head when Amelia lights up in delight. Unorthodox though she may be, the kids rather adore her anyway. 

 

As the sound of clashing pointy sticks and Bill’s excitable cheering rings through the forest, Theta leans into the warmth of Melody’s side and rests her head on her shoulder. Melody’s curls tickle her cheek and she smiles, breathing in the floral scent of her shampoo. “D’you think we should tell her?”

 

Hands curled around a mug of tea and her attention mostly on a stack of documents on her lap, Melody asks absently, “Tell who what?”

 

Theta bites her lip. “Koschei,” she replies. “We haven’t told her how I regenerated.”

 

Melody shifts her tea to one hand, using the other to card her fingers through Theta’s hair. “That’s because you regenerated on another planet after we sneaked away in a TARDIS. After we promised we wouldn’t go anywhere without Koschei again.”

 

With a grimace, Theta admits, “Yeah. Not our finest moment.”

 

“Regretting our date nights, then?”

  
Theta lifts her head, lips pulled into a stubborn frown. “Never,” she declares. “But I am feelin’ a bit...guilty.” She gestures to Koschei, currently hiding from Amelia behind a tree, pointing stick concealed behind her back and a worryingly gleeful smile on her face. “I feel like we’ve got three kids instead of two. She’s… I dunno, _ours_.”

 

Melody sighs and in it, Theta can hear the reluctant fondness that has grown between her best friend and her wife over the years. “A bit like a stray cat who refuses to leave.” She purses her lips, stealing a glance at Theta. “But you’re wrong about one thing, darling.”

 

“Of course,” Theta grumbles. “I’m always wrong about somethin’.”

 

Melody ignores her pout, still looking amused. Her eyes glitter the way they always do when she knows something Theta doesn’t and her curiosity is instantly piqued. “It isn’t that we have three children instead of two. It’s that we have four instead of three.” At Theta’s bewildered frown, Melody smiles and lifts her hand from Theta’s hair to pat her stomach. “Or at least we will have when this one comes along.”

 

Theta gapes, scrambling to sit up straight. “Are you -” She squeaks, barely able to get the words past her excited tongue. “ _Again_? Seriously?”

 

Melody laughs, nodding. “Must have happened before you regenerated.” She crinkles her nose. “Unless I skipped biology on the wrong day.”

 

Beaming, Theta grasps her face in her hands and kisses her soundly. “This is brilliant.”

 

Curling into her with a pleased hum, Melody says, “You’re the one who insisted on four that night, remember? You’ve got your wish.”

 

Theta shakes her head, her eyes watering despite herself. Damn this body and its ready willingness to cry. “Not just this one,” she breathes, thumbs stroking over Melody’s cheeks in quiet adoration. “I’ve gotten everything I’ve ever wished for. A home, a real family, visiting the stars…” She sniffles, pressing her forehead to her wife’s and willing her to feel the overwhelming gratitude filling up her hearts. “You’ve given me so much, Melody.”

 

Melody gives her a watery smile, placing her hand over Theta’s on her cheek. “You beautiful idiot,” she whispers. “You’re the one who befriended a little half human orphan girl, following me about until I stopped pushing you away. You showed me love when I’d never known it before.” She turns her head, pressing a tender kiss to Theta’s palm. “Where would I be without you?”

 

“In prison, probably,” Theta admits with a grin, hoping to lighten the mood. 

 

Melody laughs softly. “I love you, you know.”

 

With a swift, exuberant kiss pressed to her mouth, Theta holds her close and whispers fondly, “Course I know. And… I-”

 

“I know too.” Melody curls a warm hand around the back of her neck and holds her close, her kiss slow and lingering enough to make Theta’s toes curl. “Idiot.”

 

A loud shriek startles them apart and Theta turns, sure she’s about to find one of her children bleeding. Instead, she claps a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. Behind her, she feels Melody bury a smile in her shoulder. While they’ve been otherwise distracted, Amelia and Bill have disarmed Koschei. They sit on top of her, holding aloft her pointy stick, and gleefully cheering in victory. Beneath them, Koschei displays her love of theatrics with a drawn out death scene – complete with gasping, gurgling, and dramatic last words of vengeance. Finally, she goes limp and the children stare at her, wide-eyed in anticipation of her imminent resurrection. 

 

When everything remains still around them, even the birds in the trees, Bill pokes at Koschei’s cheek and whispers loudly, “Um, you’re s’posed to regenerate now.”

 

Koschei swats at him, cracking open one eye to glare. “Oi, I’ve just been murdered. Show a little respect.”

 

Biting back a laugh, Theta tugs Melody from her paperwork. They sneak up on their children hand in hand and Theta feels a little thrill shoot through her when she remembers that before long, there will be another little hellion to play with. She squeezes Melody’s hand in silent gratitude for giving her the family she never thought possible and together, they rescue their son before Koschei decides to make use of that pointy stick after all.

 

-

 

“Are you sure the TARDIS is on invisible?” Melody peers over her shoulder suspiciously, ignoring Theta’s insulted glance. “It’s supposed to be a surprise, after all.”

 

Theta shoos her away from the controls, frowning. “Of course it’s on invisible. I know what I’m doing.”

 

Melody hums skeptically. “Is that why you failed your driving course five times?”

 

“No,” Theta says, punching in coordinates. “I failed five times because you kept whisperin’ lewd things in my ear right before it was my turn to fly.”

 

“Oh yes.” Her eyes gleam in remembrance as she watches Theta send them into flight. “Want a reenactment?”

 

“Oi, none of that.” Theta flushes, wagging a scolding finger at her. “You’ll distract me and we’ve got plans tonight.”

 

Melody pouts. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

 

“Oh don’t pretend you’re dreading it.” Theta dances close enough to press a fleeting kiss to the tip of her nose, twirling out of reach again. She’s starting to get used to these newborn deer legs of hers, with their constant need to gambol about. “You’re lookin’ forward to having her along just as much as I am.”

 

With a reluctant frown, Melody admits, “We do have fun.” She bites her lip and Theta stares, drawn to her. Before she knows it, her traitorous feet have stumbled all the way back to her side again. Melody traces a fingertip down Theta’s arm, somehow managing to fill the innocent touch with positively sensual implications. “But I’ll miss having you to myself.”

 

Fighting back a shudder as her wife’s fingertips brush her collarbone, Theta protests, “Who says you need to miss that? We’ll still have plenty of time on our own.” She captures Melody’s hand before it strays any further into temptation. “Koschei is my best mate but even she isn’t getting in the way of date night with my wife.”

 

“Sap,” Melody declares her, and bends her head for a kiss. 

 

Theta beams into her mouth, leaning up on her toes and parting her lips eagerly under Melody’s insistent tongue. She’s starting to get used to these shorter legs. Warm hands settle on her hips and Theta sighs happily, her fingers tangling in wild blonde curls. Her hearts pound in her ears and she loses all sense of time and reason, forgetting entirely where she is and why she’s there. Melody’s kisses have a terrible, _wonderful_ habit of doing that. 

 

It’s only as Melody’s wicked hand slips from the curve of her hip and trails up her narrow waist that Theta remembers with a flash that they’re supposed to be doing something else. She clings to her brief bout of clarity, forcing herself from the enticing heat of Melody’s mouth and stumbling back a few steps. She blinks the haze from her eyes, panting, and holds out a hand to keep her bewitching wife at arms length. 

 

“No,” she says, though denying her desire for more kissing takes all of her willpower. “ _Focus_.”

 

Eyes dark, Melody licks her lips. “Date night tomorrow?”

 

Theta nods shakily, still tasting Melody in her mouth as she rasps, “Count on it.”

 

Making sure to keep a reasonable distance from her wife, Theta straightens her clothes and purses her kiss-swollen lips. With a nod, she marches for the door and throws it open. At the sight of Koschei standing right outside, tapping her foot impatiently, she stops short. Melody peers over her shoulder, glancing pointedly from the very much visible blue police box parked in Koschei’s library and back to Theta again with a glare. “So much for a surprise.”

 

Theta shrugs guiltily and mutters, “Oops.”

 

Arms crossed over her chest, Koschei snarls, “I knew it. You’ve been going off-planet without me. Again.”

 

“To be fair,” Theta points out, grimacing. “We didn’t really have a say in leaving the first time.”

 

“It’s your own fault,” Koschei sniffs, unapologetic. “You were being annoying.”

 

Theta smiles hopefully. “Call it even?”

 

Koschei ignores her, eyes narrowed dangerously. “That’s how you regenerated this time, isn’t it? Off on some adventure?”

 

“What, no!” Theta wilts under her glower. “Maybe. Yes, a bit. It was only supposed to be the once. I stole a TARDIS for a date with Melody-”

 

“Ugh.” Koschei wrinkles her nose. “Spare me.”

 

“We always meant to invite you along but-”

 

“Let me guess, you forgot amidst all the shagging?”

 

Theta blushes, fidgeting. “Well-”

 

With a shudder of revulsion, Koschei hisses, “I can’t believe you broke a childhood oath to shag your wife. Don’t you have _enough_ time tots running about?”

 

Beaming, Theta shakes her head, momentarily distracted by the thought of her growing family as she gushes, “Not even close. But Melody says if I want more I’ve got to have them myself next time.”

 

“Well it’s only fair.” Melody shrugs, standing beside her. “I did carry the first three.”

 

“Yeah.” Theta throws her a fond glance, eyes lingering on her growing stomach. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

 

Melody blows her a kiss. “My pleasure, sweetie.”

 

Rolling her eyes, Koschei snaps, “Stop being nauseating. We’re talking about you abandoning me.” She stomps her foot, looking a bit like a scary toddler throwing a tantrum. “Sneaking off like guilty little Daleks.”

 

Theta tilts her head curiously. “Can Daleks even sneak?” At Koschei’s increasingly irate glower, she whinges, “Oh come on. We’re back, aren’t we? We’re here asking you to come with us.”

 

“And I suppose I should be flattered to receive an invitation?” Koschei flutters her dark lashes and affects a simpering, girlish voice that grates on Theta’s ears. “Oh it’s ever so kind of you to invite me on your Super Special, Secret TARDIS Adventures. Thanks ever so much for thinking of me, truly-”

 

Melody snaps. “Oh would you stop bitching and get on board like we both know you’re going to anyway?” She and Koschei stare at each other, locked in some sort of death glare match. Theta glances uneasily between them, sure that blood is about to be drawn. “We’re sorry we didn’t bring you with us sooner but we’re asking you now. So are you going to stand here pouting or are you going to come along?”

 

Koschei hesitates, clearly torn between having a row with Melody and the desire to finally have those adventures together they’ve always dreamed about. Seeing the battle being fought behind her eyes, Theta wheedles pleadingly, “Come on, Kosch. We’ll see the stars together.” She widens her eyes in that way she’s recently learned Melody is helpless against, clasping her hands under her chin. “Just like we promised.”

 

Studying her with calculated suspicion and absolutely none of the exasperated fondness such pleading usually gets from Melody, Koschei crosses her arms over her chest and lifts her chin. Seeing the frost beginning to melt from her eyes, Theta starts smiling before she even agrees. “Fine.” Without another moment of hesitation, she stalks right past them and into the TARDIS. “But I’m driving.”

 

Melody scoffs, whirling to follow on her heels. “Like hell you are.”

 

“Why not?” Koschei asks, mischief in her voice. “Don’t you trust me?”

 

“Absolutely not,” Melody says instantly. “You’ll land us inside an erupting volcano on purpose.”

 

“Don’t tell me that doesn’t sound exciting?”

 

Still standing in the library, Theta lingers outside the door, her palm pressed to the fading blue paint, and listens to them bicker. 

 

Melody growls. “Koschei, get away from those controls.”

 

“Ooh, what about a little trip to France right before the revolution?” Koschei claps her hands, sounding giddy. “We’ll light the spark and stay to watch Marie Antoinette’s head roll.”

 

Using the voice Theta recognizes instantly as her Lady President tone, Melody snaps, “Koschei, so help me if you even think of touching that lever, I’ll drop you out in the middle of the vortex and let it eat you.”

 

Koschei laughs outright, shrill and delighted. 

 

With a sigh and a shake of her head, Theta follows them inside. At the console, Melody and Koschei pay her no mind as they bicker over a compromise – settling on Berlin instead, just on the eve of war. Apparently they both agree that no one will miss a few Nazis. Theta watches them dance around the console, inputting coordinates and pulling levers, laughing together now as though they’d never argued at all. 

 

With both of them along for the ride, it’s bound to be an interesting night. All the stars in the sky to see and all the time in the universe until morning. Theta approaches the console with a skip in her step, grasping her wife around the waist and grinning brightly at her best friend. _Just watch them run_. 


End file.
